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THE  LIBRARY 
OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

in  2008  with  funding  from 

Microsoft  Corporation 


http://www.archive.org/details/friedrichschilleOOcaru 


FRIEDRICH  SCHILLER. 
(After  a  painting  by  Ludovika  Simanowitz.) 


FRIEDRICH  SCHILLER 


A  SKETCH  OF  HIS  LIFE  AND  AN 
APPRECIATION  OF  HIS   POETRY 


PAUL  CARUS 


ILLUSTRATED 


CHICAGO 
THE  OPEN  COURT  PUBLISHING  COMPANY 

LONDON    AGENTS 

KEGAN    PAUL.   TRENCH.  TRUBNER   &   CO..   LTD. 

1905 


Copyright  1905 

by 

The  Open  Court  Publishing  Co. 

Chicago 


CONTEXTS. 

PAGE 

The  Poet's  Biography i 

Schiller,  a  Philosophical  Poet 32 

Schiller's    Poetry 59 

Expectation 61 

Pegasus  in  Harness 62 

Division  of  the  Earth 67 

Hymn  to  Joy 68 

Cavalry  Song  (From  Wallenstein's  Camp  ) 71 

The  Alpine  Hunter 73 

Proverbs  of  Confucius 76 

Light  and  Warmth 78 

The  Lay  of  the  Bell 79 

The  title-page  vignette  is  a  reproduction  of  Schiller's  seal,  and  the  tail- 
piece on  page  102  of  his  coat  of  arms. 


274625 


THE  POET'S  BIOGRAPHY. 

FRIEDRICH  Schiller  is  not  merely  a  great  poet,  he  is  great  as  a 
man,  as  a  thinker,  and  as  a  leader  in  the  progress  of  humanity. 
He  is  a  disciple  of  Kant,  but  not  his  blind  follower.  He  applies 
Kant's  philosophy  to  practical  life,  but  works  it  out  in  his  own  way. 
Especially  in  his  religious  convictions  Schiller  is  far  ahead  of  his 
time.  He  points  out  a  way  of  conservative  advance  along  the  lines 
of  liberty  and  reverence,  and  so  the  opposition  in  which  he  stands 
to  the  narrow  dogmatism  of  his  age,  is  not  a  lack  of  religion  but 
the  surest  evidence  of  a  deep  religious  spirit.  It  pervades  all  his 
works  and  makes  him  a  prophet  of  the  religion  of  the  future,  a 
priest  on  the  altar  of  mankind,  and  a  poet  of  the  eternal  ideals  of 
life. 

The  great  poet's  father,  Johann  Kaspar  Schiller,  was  born  Oc- 
tober 27,  1723,  in  Bittenfeld,  near  Waiblingen.  He  was  the  son 
of  Johann  Schiller,  the  mayor  of  the  village,  and  his  wife,  Eva 
Maria,  whose  maiden  name  was  Schatz. 

Schiller's  father  was  a  military  surgeon.  He  served  both  as 
soldier  and  as  army  physician,  especially  in  Holland.  After  his 
marriage,  in  1749,  he  settled  in  Marbach. 

In  1753  he  entered  the  Wiirttemberg  army  and  fought  against 
Prussia  in  1758.  He  was  made  lieutenant  in  1759  (March  21) 
and  captain  in  1761  (August  17).  His  regiment  was  stationed  part 
of  the  time  in  Ludwigsburg  and  part  in  Stuttgart,  and  in  1770  he 
was  given  a  company  of  his  own.  In  1785  he  was  transferred  to 
the  Solitude  in  charge  of  the  garden.  Here  he  devoted  himself  to 
arboriculture  and  wrote  two  works  on  that  subject,  in  which  he 
incorporated  bis  experiences  of  twenty  years'  active  service  as  a 
gardener.1  In  1794  he  was  promoted  t<>  the  rank  of  lieutenant- 
colonel,  and  died  September  7,  1796. 

1  Gedanken  iiber  die  Baumzucht   im  Grossen    (1793),   and  Die  Baumzuchi    im    C 
nach  swansigjahriger  Erfahrung  im  Kleinen   (1795). 


2  FRIEDRICH   SCHILLER. 

Schiller's  mother,  Elisabetha  Dorothea,  was  the  daughter  of 
Friedrich  Kodweis,  the  baker  in  Marbach  and  owner  of  the  Lion 
inn.  She  was  married  to  the  poet's  father  on  July  22,  1749,  and  died 
April  29,  1802.  Schiller  had  five  sisters  of  whom  two  died  early 
and  three  reached  the  age  of  maturity.  The  eldest,  Elisabetha  Chris- 
tophina  Friederika,   (commonly  called  Fine  at  home,)   was  born  at 


HOUSE  OF  SCHILLER  S   BIRTH. 


Marbach,  September  4,  1757,  and  married  June  22,  1786,  to  the 
poet's  friend,  the  librarian  Wilhelm  Friedrich  Hermann  Reinwald 
of  Meiningen.     She  died  at  Meiningen,  August  31,   1847. 

Of  the   two   younger   sisters,   Luise   Dorothea   Katharina   was 
born  January  23,   1766,  at  Lorch.     She  was  married  October  20, 


THE   POETS    BIOGRAPHY.  3 

1799,  to  Johann  Gottlieb  Frankh,  a  clergyman  and  teacher  of  Mock- 
miihl,  who  was  born  December  20,  1760,  and  died  September  14, 
1836. 

Schiller's  youngest  sister,  born  September  8,  1777.  at  the  Soli- 
tude, was  baptized  Karoline  Christians  but  always  called  Nannette 
or  Nane.     She  died  unmarried  March  23,   1796. 


SCHILLER.  S  FATHER. 
(After  a  painting  by  Ludovika   Simanowitz.) 

The  poet  was  born  November  10,  1759,  at  Marbach.  In  bap- 
tism he  received  the  name  Johann  Christoph  Friedrich.  When  he 
was  three  years  old  the  family  moved  to  Ludwigsburg  (1762)  and 
two  years  later  (1764)   to  Lorch.     Here  Schiller  received  his  first 


4  FRIEDRICH   SCHILLER. 

instruction  from  Pastor  Moser  who  was  immortalized  in  the  ven- 
erable character  of  the  same  name  that  figures  in  the  poet's  first 
great  drama  "The  Robbers." 

From  1766  to  1772,  Schiller  attended  the  Latin  school  at  Lud- 
wigsburg  and  at  that  age  he  cherished  the  ambition  of  studying 
theology.     The   Christian   spirit   of  his  thoughts   is   reflected   in  a 


SCHILLER  S    MOTHER. 
(After  a  painting  by  Ludovika   Simanowitz.) 

tragedy  which  he  conceived  at  the  time  under  the  title  "The  Chris- 
tians." 

In  the  beginning  of  the  year  1773,  Schiller  entered  the  military 
school  at  Solitude,  which  was  transferred  in  1775  to  Stuttgart  and 


THE   POET  S    BIOGRAPHY.  5 

was  enlarged  by  the  addition  of  a  medical  faculty.  Here  he  selected 
medicine  as  his  specialty,  but  the  spirit  of  the  military  academy  was 
not  congenial  to  him  and  if  he  had  had  his  own  way  he  would  have 
left  it. 

In  1780  (in  the  middle  of  December)  he  was  appointed  phy- 
sician and  surgeon  to  a  regiment  of  grenadiers  at  Stuttgart.  Here 
he  made  the  acquaintance  of  Frau  Henriette  von  Wolzogen,  who 
was  the  mother  of  Wilhelm  von  Wolzogen,  his  chum  at  the  military 
academy. 

While  in  Stuttgart,  in  1 78 1,  Schiller  roomed  at  the  house  of  a 


CHATEAU   SOLITUDE   NEAR  STUTTGART. 
(After  a  painting  by  Viktor  Heideloff.) 


captain's  widow,  Frau  Laura  Yischer,  to  whom  he  addressed  some 
of  his  still  boyish  lyrics  expressing  his  first  disappointments  in  love. 
The  poems  to  Minna,  Wilhelmina  Andrea,  are  perhaps  an  advance  in 
taste  and  sentiment,  but  these  early  effusions  possess  merely  histor- 
ical value. 

Though  the  young  poet  wras  only  twenty-two  years  old,  he 
finished  "The  Robbers,"  a  stirring  and  impressive  tragedy  which 
was  presented  for  the  first  time  at  Mannheim,  January  13,  1782. 
In  April  of  the  same  year  he  took  his  degree  as  Doctor  of  Medicine. 

On  May  25,  Schiller  left  the  garrison  at  Stuttgart  without  leave, 


FRIEDRICH   SCHILLER. 


in  order  to  visit  director  Dalberg  of  the  Mannheim  stage.  Upon 
his  return  he  was  punished  with  fourteen  days  imprisonment,  and 
when  complaints  had  been  made  with  reference  to  some  objection- 
able passage  in  "The  Robbers,"  Karl  Eugen,  Duke  of  Wurttem- 


SCHILLER   READING      THE   ROBBERS      TO    HIS   FELLOW    STUDENTS 
IN   THE  BOPSER  WOODS. 

berg,  forbade  him  to  pursue  further  his  literary  work,  and  ordered 
him  strictly  to  cut  off  all  connection  with  foreign  countries  (Aus- 
land),  referring  to  his  visit  at  Mannheim  in  the  neighboring  duchy. 


THE   POETS    BIOGRAPHY. 


The  critical  incident  in  Schiller's  life  was  his  flight  to  Mann- 
heim in  the  night  of   September   17,    1782,-   in  company   with  his 


SCHILLER  AFTER  AN    EX  GRAVING   BY   E.    K1RSCHNER. 

(Made  in  1782-83.) 

The  picture  underneath  the  portrait  is  a  representation  of  a  scene  from 

"The   Robbers." 

friend  Streicher,  a  musician.     Conditions  in  Stuttgart  had  become 
intolerable,  and  he  felt  that  unless  he  surrendered  all  his  ambitions 

2  Some  authorities  date  this  event  on  the  night  of  September  2223. 


FRIEDRICH   SCHILLER. 


and  ideals,  he  was  obliged  to  take  the  risk  of  cutting  loose  from 
his  home  and  his  duke,  who  still  ruled  in  the  old-fashioned  paternal 
way  which  involved  too  much  interference  with  personal  liberty. 


SCHILLER   IN    HIS   TWENTY-SIXTH    YEAR. 

However,   Schiller  was  greatly  disappointed  in  his  immediate 
expectations.    When  he  arrived  at  Mannheim,  Dalberg  received  him 


THE   POET  S   BIOGRAPHY.  9 

kindlv  and  invited  him  to  read  his  new  drama  ''Fiesko''  before  the 
actors  of  his  company.  Unfortunately  Schiller  spoke  the  broad 
Swabian  dialect  and  read  scene  after  scene  in  an  nnabated  pathetic 
monotone  which  made  the  context  unintelligible.  The  curiosity 
with  which  the  actors  had  received  the  young  poet  changed  to  in- 
difference, and  a  general  inattention  resulted  in  the  discontinuance 
of  the  recital.  Many  of  those  present  doubted  whether  the  young 
stranger  was  really  the  poet  Schiller,  and  Dalberg  himself  was  dis- 
appointed. But  after  Schiller  had  left,  the  director  read  the  manu- 
script over  and  discerned  that  the  fault  had  been  in  the  reading  and 
not  in  the  drama  itself.     So  he  sent  again  for  the  author,  who  had 


SILHOUETTE   OF   SCHILLER. 
(Oldest  portrait  extant,  probably  1772-72.) 

become  disheartened,  and  reassured  him  without,  however,  making 
definite  arrangements. 

In  his  extremity,  the  poet  found  some  relief  through  the  in- 
terest which  a  Mannheim  publisher,  Herr  Schwan,  took  in  the 
manuscript  of  "Fiesko."  To  him  Schiller  sold  the  right  of  publi- 
cation for  eleven  louis  d'or — just  sufficient  to  pay  his  bill  at  the  inn 
and  for  his  immediate  needs. 

Schiller  left  for  Frankfort  in  October  of  the  same  year  (1782). 
He  returned  to  Stuttgart  incognito,  for  he  was  in  danger  of  arrest 
because  of  his  desertion,  and  lived  nearby  in  Oggersheim  under  the 


IO 


FRIEDRICH   SCHILLER. 


name  of  Dr.  Schmidt.  Here  he  recast  "Fiesko"  and  worked  out 
"Luise  Millerin,"  (later  on  published  under  the  title  Kabale  unci 
Licbe),  the  plan  of  which  had  been  conceived  at  Mannheim. 

Being  practically  homeless,  Schiller  was  cheered  by  an  invita- 
tion tendered  him  by  Fran  von  Wolzogen,  offering  him  an  asylum 
on  her  estate  at  Bauerbach,  to  which  place  he  traveled  in  December 


FRAU   HEXRIETTE  VON    WOLZOGEN. 
(From  an  anonymous  painting.) 


under  the  name  of  Dr.  Ritter.     This  estimable  woman  remained 
Schiller's  motherly  friend  to  the  end  of  her  life,  August  5,  1788. 

It  was  while  he  was  staying  at  Bauerbach  that  he  made  the 
acquaintance  of  Reinwald,  the  librarian  at  Meiningen  who  was  later 


THE   POET  S    BIOGRAPHY. 


II 


to  become  his  brother-in-law.    While  there,  he  completed  his  drama 
"Luise  Millerin"  and  began  "Don  Carlos." 

During  this  same  period  Schiller  conceived  a  warm  attachment 
for  the  daughter  of  his  hostess,  Charlotte  von  Wolzogen,  of  whom 
he  speaks  as  a  "most  beautiful,  innocent,  tender,  and  impressionable 
soul,   fresh   from  the  hands  of  the  Creator,"  but  we  find  that  as 


CHARLOTTE  VON  WOLZOGEN. 
Afterwards  Frau  von  Lilienstern.    (From  an  anonymous  painting.) 

early  as  1784  he  had  surrendered  all  thought  of  marriage  with  her. 
She  was  married  four  years  later  to  August  Franz  I1 rie<  1  rich  von 
Lilienstern,  councilor  at  Hildburghauscn,  where  she  died  September 
20,  1794. 


12 


FRIEDRICH   SCHILLER. 


July  27,  1783,  Schiller  returned  to  Mannheim  and  accepted 
Dalberg's  appointment  as  theatrical  poet  of  the  stage  at  Mannheim, 
promising  to  furnish  "Fiesko,"  "Luise  Millerin,"  and  some  addi- 
tional plays. 

Simultaneous  with  his  sojourn  at  Mannheim  is  Schiller's  in- 
terest for  his  publisher's  daughter,  Margareta  Schwan,  who  later 
on,  July  16,  1793,  became  the  wife  of  Karl  Friedrich  Treffz,  a  law- 
yer of  Heilbronn. 

At  Mannheim,  in  1784,  Schiller  met  also  Charlotte  von  Lenge- 
feld,  who  was  destined  to  become  his  wife ;  but  his  first  acquaintance 
with  her  was  so  superficial  that  at  the  time  it  produced  no  deep 
effect  upon  his  mind. 

Although  he  was  financially  hard   pressed,   Schiller  had   now 


SCHILLER  S  RESIDENCE  AT  BAUERBACH. 


firmly  and  forever  established  his  renown  as  a  dramatic  poet.  On 
January  11,  "Fiesko"  was  produced,  and  March  9,  "Love  and  In- 
trigue" (Kabalc  und  Liebe).  In  May  he  made  the  acquaintance  of 
Frau  Charlotte  von  Kalb  who  was  visiting  in  Mannheim. 

In  order  to  popularize  his  ideas  of  dramatic  poetry  he  origi- 
nated a  literary  magazine,  the  Rheinische  Thalia.  Having  traveled 
to  Darmstadt,  he  met  Karl  August,  Duke  of  Weimar,  the  wellknown 
patron  and  friend  of  Goethe,  to  whom  he  read  the  beginning  of 
"Don  Carlos,"  in  recognition  of  which  he  received  the  title  "Coun- 
cilor." 

In  1785  Schiller  left  Mannheim  and  took  up  his  residence  in 


THE   POET  S    BIOGRAPHY. 


1.3 


Saxony,  where  he  stayed  partly  in  Leipsic  and  Gohlis,  partly  in 
Dresden  as  a  guest  of  the  Korner  family  with  whom  he  had  been 
previously  in  correspondence. 

The  old  councilor,  Christian  Gottfried  Korner,  was  born  July 
2,  1756,  at  Leipsic.  He  studied  jurisprudence  in  Gottingen  and 
Leipsic  and  had  been  solicitor  in  the  Consistory  at  Leipsic  and 
Dresden.  In  1790  he  was  transferred  to  the  Court  of  Appeals,  and 
in  1815  was  called  to  Berlin  on  the  State  Council  in  the  department 
of  Church  government. 

It  is  well  known  that  Schiller  exercised  a  great  influence  upon 


MARGARETA    SCHWAN,    AFTERWARDS    FRAU    TREFFZ. 
(From  a  miniature.) 


the  Councilor's  son,  Karl  Theodor  Korner,  the  young  poet,  (born 
September  23,  1791,)  whose  promising  career  was  cut  short  in  the 
War  of  Liberation  where  he  died  on  the  field  of  battle  at  Gadebusch, 
August  20,  18 1 3. 

From  Gohlis  he  proposed  for  the  hand  of  Margareta  Schwan, 
but  her  father  refused  without  consulting  his  daughter's  wishes 
on  the  plea  that  her  character  was  not  suited  to  Schiller. 

Schiller  now  began  to  consider  seriously  how  he  could  settle  in 


14 


FRIEDRICH   SCHILLER. 


life  and  earn  a  living.  He  planned  to  resume  his  practice  as  a  phy- 
sician. He  stayed  in  Gohlis  where  he  wrote  his  "Hymn  to  Joy"  for 
the  Thalia  and  further  scenes  of  "Don  Carlos."  September  12  he 
took  up  his  residence  in  the  little  vintage  house  of  the  Korner  estate 
in  the  outskirts  of  Dresden,  and  in  October  he  moved  into  town 
where  he  lived  with  his  friend  Huber  at  the  home  of  the  Fleisch- 
mann  family  opposite  the  Korner  residence. 


CHRISTIAN  GOTTFRIED  KORNER. 


In  the  winter  of  1787  at  a  masked  ball,  Schiller  met  and  be- 
came infatuated  with  Henriette  von  Arnim,  a  coquette  whose  in- 
fluence was  fortunately  not  of  long  duration.  In  July  he  visited 
Weimar.  Goethe  happened  to  be  absent,  but  he  met  Herder  and 
renewed  his  acquaintance  with  Frau  von  Kalb. 

He  continued  to  pursue  his  historical  studies,  preparing  a  work 


THE    POET  S    BIOGRAPHY. 


PAVILION*    IN    KORNERS   VINTAGE  AT   LOSCHWITZ.    NEAR    DR] 


S(   HILLER'S    HOME    IN    Colli. IS    NEAR    LEIPSIC. 


i6 


FRIEDRICH  SCHILLER. 


on  the  Dutch  Rebellion,  and  about  this  time  he  wrote  "The  Gods  of 
Greece." 


SCHILLER   IN    1 786. 
(Painted  by  Anton  Graff,  and  engraved  by  J.  G.  Miiller  in  1794.) 


He  met  Goethe  for  the  first  time  at  Rudolstadt  on  September  9. 
On  his  frequent  visits  to  that  little  city  he  became  more  intimately 


THE   POET  S   BIOGRAPHY. 


*7 


acquainted  with  the  Lengefeld  family  to  whom  he  had  been  intro- 
duced by  his  friend  Wilhelm  von  Wolzogen.  Mr.  Lengefeld  was 
the  forester  of  Schwarzburg-Rudolstadt,  and  his  two  daughters. 
Karoline  and  Charlotte,  were  distinguished  for  their  grace  and  in- 
tellect. 

At  the  request  of  Goethe,  Schiller  was  appointed  professor  of 


CHARLOTTE  VON   KALB. 


(Painted  in  1785  by  F.  Tischbein.     Original   in  her  home  Chateau   Walters- 
hausen  in  Thuringia.) 


history  at  the  University  of  Jena,  May  II,  1789,  with  an  annual 
salary  of  two  hundred  thalers.    His  first  lecture  was  on  the  subject, 


FRIEDRICH   SCHILLER. 


"What  means  universal  history,  and  to  what  purpose  do  we  study 
it?" 

On  December  22,  1789,  Schiller  became  engaged  to  Charlotte 
von  Lengefeld  (born  November  22,  1766),  and  they  were  married 
on  February  22  of  the  following  year. 

Charlotte's  elder  sister  Karoline  (born  February  3,  1763,)  had 


KAROLINE  VON   LENGEFELD. 

Afterwards  Frau  von  Wolzogen. 

(Enlarged  from  an  ivory  miniature.) 

been  Schiller's  good  friend  and  adviser.  In  1780  she  was  married 
to  Friedrich  Wilhelm  Ludwig  von  Beulwitz,  a  member  of  the 
Schwarzburg-Rudolstadt  Council;  but  later,  having  been  divorced 


THE   POET'S    BIOGRAPHY.  I<) 

from  him  in  1794,  she  was  happily  married  to  Wilhelm  von  Wol- 
zogen,  Schiller's  life-long  friend. 

During  the  summer  of   1790,   Schiller  lectured  on  the  theory 
of  tragedy  and  on  the  history  of  the  Thirty  Years'  War. 


CHARLOTTE  VON   SCHILLER. 
(After  a  painting  by  Ludovika  Simanowitz.) 

In  February  1791  he  had  a  serious  illness;  in  March  he  began 
the  study  of  Kant ;  in  April  he  retired  to  Rudolstadt  as  a  convales- 


20  FRIEDRICH  SCHILLER. 

cent;  in  May  he  had  a  relapse  which  was  so  severe  as  to  cause 
a  rumor  of  his  death  (June  12).  He  spent  June  in  Karlsbad  whence 
he  moved  to  Erfurt. 

Karl  August  bestowed  a  donation  upon  him,  while  Duke  Fried- 
rich  of  Schleswig  and  Count  Schimmelmann,  the  Premier  of  Den- 
mark, granted  him  small  annual  pensions. 


N ANNETTE   SCHILLER. 
(After  a  painting  by  Ludovika  Simanowitz.) 

In  1792  he  visited  Dresden  again. 

While  sojourning  in  the  capital  of  Saxony  Schiller  received 
the  honorary  citizenship  of  the  French  Republic  under  the  name 
"Sieur  Gille." 


THE    POETS    B10GKA1M1V. 


21 


On  September  14,  1793,  while  he  and  his  wife  were  visiting 
his  old  home  at  Ludwigsburg,  a  son  was  born  to  them  whom  they 
named  Karl  Friedrich  Lndwig. 

In    1794,   Schiller  and   Goethe  began  a  lively  correspondence 


LUISE   SCHILLER. 

Afterwards  Frau  Frankli. 

(From  a  miniature  in  water-color.) 

which  was  continued  until  Schiller  settled  permanently  in  Weimar 
five  years  later. 

The  friendship  between  the  two  great  poets  was  firmly  cemented 
and  they  published  together  a  periodical  under  the  title  Die  Horcn. 
the  Greek  name  for  the  Seasons.     It  was  in   1797,   when  attacks 


22 


FRIEDRICH   SCHILLER. 


from  minor  literary  writers  upon  the  two  great  poets  became  espe- 
cially virulent,  that  Schiller  and  Goethe  decided  to  open  a  general 
warfare  upon  their  enemies  in  a  series  of  sarcastic  distichs  which 
they  called  "Xenions,"  having  in  mind  similar  couplets  written  by 
Martial  under  this  title. 

The  worst  trials  of  Schiller's  life  were  now  over.     He  wrote 
"Ideals  of  Life,"  "The  Walk,"  "The  Lament  of  Ceres,"  etc. 


ft 


A 


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-  ■  -*  ff •■^<^'^r3fctf:&^  r^S 


A  SATIRE  ON   THE   XENIONS. 

[This  interesting  drawing  appeared  in  1797  in  the  pamphlet  entitled. 
Trogalicn  cur  Verdauung  der  Xenien  (Dessert  for  Digesting  the  Xenions). 
It  represents  the  Xenions  under  the  leadership  of  Schiller  and  Goethe,  tearing 
down  the  Pillar  of  Decency,  Morality,  and  Justice,  while  the  gate-keeper  re- 
fuses them  admittance.  Harlequin  bears  their  standard  with  the  inscription 
"Schiller  &  Co."  Goethe,  as  a  fawn,  holds  up  a  ribbon  on  which  is  the  word 
"Zodiac"  (Tliierkreis,  i.  e.,  the  circle  of  emblematic  animals  in  the  sky).  It 
is  to  signify  that  he  inaugurates  a  return  to  brute  principles.  Schiller  is 
dressed  as  a  driver  in  riding-boots  with  a  lash  in  one  hand  and  a  bottle  in  the 
other.  Both  portraits  are  independent  of  any  known  picture  of  the  two  great 
poets,  and  must  have  been  made  from  life  by  a  skilled  artist.] 


July  II,  1796,  his  son  Ernst  Friedrich  Wilhelm  was  born  at 
Jena. 

1796  to  1799  Schiller  worked  out  his  great  trilogy  "Wallen- 
stein." 

In  1797  to  1798  he  composed  ballads  and  philosophical  poems. 


THE   POETS    BIOGRAPHY. 

October  5,  1799'  his  oldest  daughter  Karoline  Henriette  Luise 
was  born. 

The  happiest  time  of  Schiller's  life  was  spent  in  the  bosom  of 


SCHILLER    IX    WEIMAB 

BY     W.    LINDENSCHMIT. 


his   family   at   Weimar,   where  he   enjoyed   the    friendship   of   the 
greatest  literary  men  of  his  age;  and  a  scene  incorporating  all  these 

3  Authorities  vary  on  the  day  of  the  month. 


24  FRIEDRICH  SCHILLER. 

features  of  his  domestic  bliss  has  been  painted  by  Lindenschmit, 
explained  as  follows  by  Mr.  Erwin  Foerster  in  an  edition  de  luxe 
of  Schiller  paintings: 

"Some  of  his  happiest  hours  he  enjoyed  at  Weimar  where  he  moved  to 
in  1799,  on  every  Wednesday  afternoon,  when  he,  surrounded  by  his  friends, 
could  read  to  them  whatever  news  the  Muse  had  presented  him  with.     It 


CHRISTOPHINE   SCHILLER. 
Afterwards  Frau  Reinwald. 

is  such  a  meeting  Lindenschmit  preferred  as  a  subject  for  his  composition. 
Above  Schiller,  Musaeus  is  seen  leaning  over  the  balustrade.  Carl  August 
and  Wilhelm  v.  Humboldt  are  approaching.  Before  them  is  a  very  attractive 
group  of  ladies.  Corona  Schroeter,  the  celebrated  actress,  is  standing  behind 
Frau  von  Laroche  who  had  gained  some  renown  in  German  literature,  and 


THE   POETS   BIOGRAPHY.  25 

whose  acquaintance  Schiller  had  already  made  when  at  Mannheim.  On 
her  left  side  Charlotte  von  Kalb  is  sitting,  the  reconciled  friend  of  our  poet; 
—a  lady  to  whom  he,  during  his  first  stay  at  Weimar,  bore  as  tender  a  love 
as  Goethe  to  Frau  von  Stein.  This  intimacy,  however,  was,  undoubtedly  to 
Schiller's  advantage,  interrupted  by  Charlotte  von  Lengefeld,  who  now,  a 
kind  hostess,  is  sitting  at  the  table.  Her  head  is  lightly  resting  upon  her 
arm;  her  eldest  boy  in  her  lap,  whilst  she  looks  with  pride,  mingled  with 


FRIEDRICH   DUKE  OF  SCHLESWIG. 
(After  a  painting  by  Graff.) 


tender  care,  upon  her  husband.  Upon  her  shoulder  is  her  sister  leaning, 
Frau  von  Wolzogen,  in  whose  mother-in-law's  house  at  Bauerbach  Schiller 
met  with  the  first  friendly  reception  since  his  escape  from  Stuttgart.  There 
is  still  another  friend  at  the  table,  in  the  foreground,  Frau  von  Egloffstein, 
a  companion  as  spirited  as  she  was  amiable.     It   is   to  her  the  pod   sinus 


26 


FRIEDRICH   SCHILLER. 


particularly  to  address  his  words,  since  he  valued  her  judgment  very  highly. 
Between  Schiller's  wife  and  Laroche,  Korner,  the  father  of  Theodor,  has 
found  a  seat.  He  came  frequently  from  Dresden  to  see  his  dearest  friend. 
Behind  him  Herder  and  Goethe  are  standing." 

Soon  after  the  removal  to  Weimar,  which  took  place  December 
1799,  Schiller  again  fell  sick  and  recovered  slowly  during  the  spring. 


ERNST    HEINRICH    COUNT    SCHIMMELMANN. 
(After  a  painting  by  Paulsen.) 

In  July  he  began  to  write  "The  Maid  of  Orleans."  In  1800  he  fin- 
ished "Maria  Stuart."  He  translated  "Macbeth,"  which  in  his  ver- 
sion was  produced  May  14.  1800.  In  the  same  year  the  first  volume 
of  his  poems  appeared. 


THE    POET  S    BIOGRAPHY. 


-7 


ERNST   VON    SCHILLER. 


KAROL1  NE   VON    Si  II  tLLER 


KARL  VON    SCHILLER. 


ALEXANDER   VON    GLEICHI 
RUSSWURM. 


28  FRIEDRICH  SCHILLER. 

In  1801  he  completed  "The  Maid  of  Orleans"  and  began  "The 
Bride  of  Messina." 


ADELBERT  VON   GLEICHEN-RUSSWURM    AND   FAMILY. 
(Schiller's  daughter.) 

In  1802  he  wrote  his  poem  "Cassandra"  and  adapted  Gozzi's 
"Turandot,"  which  was  produced  at  Weimar. 


THE   POET'S    BIOGRAPHY.  j,  , 

September  7,  1802,  he  was  knighted  by  the  Duke,  the  coat  of 
arms  being  a  unicorn  rampant  in  blue  and  gold. 

The  "Bride  of  Messina"  was  completed  in  1803.  In  April  [803 
he  wrote  the  "Count  of  Hapsburg" ;  in  May  the  "Feast  of  Victory," 
and  in  August  he  began  his  work  on  "Wilhelm  Tell." 

In  February  1804  he  completed  "Wilhelm  Tell"  and  began  a 
new  play  "Demetrius,"  which,  however,  was  never  finished. 

In  July  he  caught  a  severe  cold  on  a  journey  to  Jena,  where 
on  the  25th  of  the  month  his  daughter  Emilie  Henriette  Luise  was 
born.  In  December  he  began  a  translation  of  Racine's  "Phaedra." 
which  remained  incomplete.  His  cold  became  worse,  and  under 
disconnected  continuance  of  his  work  his  illness  lingered  with  him, 
until  he  died  suddenly  May  9,  1805,  at  5  P.  M.,  at  his  home  in  Wei- 
mar.    His  wife  survived  him  until  July  9,  1826. 

Emilie  von  Schiller,  the  poet's  second  daughter,  was  married 
to  the  Baron  of  Gleichen-Russwurm.  and  Alexander,  the  only  son 
of  her  son  Ludwig,  and  the  present  Baron  of  Gleichen-Russwurm, 
is  Schiller's  only  surviving  descendant  since  his  daughter  Karoline 
never  married  and  both  sons  died  without  children. 


CHARLOTTE  \'<  i.\   SCH1  LEER. 
(Probably  1784.) 

We  conclude  this  sketch  with  a  description  of  Schiller's  per 
sonality,  mainly  following  Professor  Brunner's  notes  on  the  subject 
which  he  collected  from  contemporary  authorities. 

Schiller  was  tall  and  almost  lank.     He  measured   1.70  mi 
in  height,  five  centimetres  more  than  Goethe.     His  bearing  was  al- 
ways upright  and  betrayed  the  military  training  he  bad  received  in 
his  early  youth.     His  face  was  distinguished  without  being  beauti- 


3Q 


FRIEDRICH   SCHILLER. 


fill :  the  skin  was  delicate  and  covered  with  freckles ;  the  mouth 
expressive ;  his  lips  were  thin  and  the  lower  one  somewhat  pro- 
truding, which  showed  much  energy  when  he  was  speaking ;  his 
chin  was  strong  and  full  of  character ;  his  cheeks,  however,  were 
pale  and  somewhat  sunken ;  his  forehead  was  broad  and  evenly 
arched ;  his  nose,  prominent,  but  well-formed ;  his  eyebrows  were 
red  and  his  eyes  deep-set  and  of  a  dark  gray  color ;  his  glance  was 
firm  and  eagle-like.     In  discussion  his  eyes  lighted  up  with  enthu- 


siasm, and  his  otherwise  calm  face  seemed  to  indicate  introspective 
thought,  as  if  contemplating  higher  objects  in  his  own  soul.  Yet 
when  he  looked  at  others  it  seemed  to  touch  the  very  heart.  His 
hair  was  blonde  and  almost  yellow. 

Schiller's  voice  was  neither  clear  nor  resonant  but  it  was  sym- 
pathetic, especially  if  he  himself  was  in  a  state  of  emotion  or  tried 

4  This  drawing  is  commonly  ascribed  to  Schiller's  friend  Reinhart,  and  goes  under 
the  name  "Schiller  in  Karlsbad,  1791";  but  Theodore  Distel  shows  its  doubtful  authorship 
and  date,  and  points  out  that  Schiller  would  scarcely  have  smoked  in  Karlsbad,  and  so 
proposes  instead  to  consider  it  as  "Schiller  at  Meiningen  in   1787." 


THE    POET  S    BIOGRAPHY.  31 

to  convince  others.  He  spoke  the  Swabian  dialect  and  was  never 
able  to  overcome  it.  Though  his  enunciation  was  poor,  he  loved 
to  read  his  dramas  and  poems  himself.  He  did  not  possess  any  skili 
in  elocution,  but  his  head  and  face  were  quite  effective  whenever 
he  recited  poetry.  His  forte  was  conversation.  He  understood 
very  well  how  to  interest  people,  and  the  flow  of  bis  words  was  al- 
most uninterrupted,  combining  clearness  of  mind  and  a  harmonious 
arrangement  of  ideas. 


schiller's  summer  home  at  jena. 
(From  a  drawing  made  by  Goethe  in  1819.) 

Whenever  Schiller  smiled  it  seemed  to  come  from  his  very  soul, 
and  his  laughter  was  as  pleasant  as  a  child's. 

When  at  rest,  his  face  always  bore  in  later  years  a  serious  and 
even  a  suffering  expression,  due  to  his  bodily  ailments;  but  he  sup- 
pressed complaints  and  preserved  in  his  entire  conduct,  in  spite  of 
the  disease  to  which  he  fell  a  premature  prey,  an  amiable  serenity. 


SCHILLER,  A  PHILOSOPHICAL  POET. 

A  GAIN  and  again  has  the  question  been  raised  whether  philosoph- 
11  ical  or  scientific  poetry  is  possible,  and  upon  the  whole  it  has 
been  answered  in  the  negative.  I  beg  to  differ  from  the  commonly 
accepted  view  and  would  say  that  poetry  may  invade  any  domain 
without  ceasing  to  be  poetry.  The  main  difficulty  of  philosophical 
and  scientific  poetry  lies  in  the  restriction  of  the  subject  to  an  ex- 
tremely limited  public  and  that  is  the  reason  why  philosophical 
poetry  does  not  find  the  all  but  universal  recognition  of  love  songs. 

The  possibility  of  philosophical  poetry  is  best  proved  by  the 
fact  of  its  existence,  but  the  truth  is  that  the  general  public  has  not 
become  acquainted  with  it  or  knows  it  only  from  hearsay.  The 
large  masses  will  never  read,  much  less  appreciate,  philosophical 
poems. 

Philosophical  poetry  is  like  classical  music  ;  few  are  the  con- 
noisseurs that  can  really  judge  of  its  merits.  In  a  certain  sense  we 
may  call  Beethoven  the  philosopher  among  composers.  His  sonatas, 
though  breathing  all  the  freedom  of  art,  exhibit  a  logical  consistency 
which  makes  them  appear  like  revelations  of  the  law  that  is  shaping 
the  world ;  yet,  since  they  are  expressed  in  chords  and  tone-figures, 
his  compositions  appeal  directly  to  sentiment,  and  their  truth  is 
felt  even  when  not  fully  understood — a  fact  which  considerably 
widens  the  audience  of  the  music  philosopher.  We  must  not  expect 
such  a  music  philosopher  to  be  as  popular  as  a  ragtime  composer, 
and  for  the  same  reason  poems  of  philosophical  significance  will 
naturally  find  few  admirers. 

Philosophical  poetry  flourished  in  Germany  in  the  classical 
period  when  its  intellectual  horizon  was  decked  with  a  galaxy  of 
stars  of  the  first  magnitude,  such  as  Klopstock,  Goethe,  Herder, 
Schiller,  Lessing,  Kant,  Beethoven,  Bach,  Mozart,  and  Haydn. 

In  order  to  forestall  any  possible  misinterpretation,  we  must 
first  of  all  explain  what  we  understand  by  poetry.     Poetry  is  cer- 


SCHILLER,  A  PHILOSOPHICAL   POET.  33 

tainly  not  limited  to  meter  and  rhyme,  and  philosophical  poetry  is 
most  assuredly  not  simply  rhymed  philosophy.  Poetn  is  sentiment 
expressed  in  words,  and  so  anything  that  effects  sentiment  can  be- 
come a  fit  subject  of  poetry. 

A  mathematical  theorem  and  its  demonstration  are  prose.  But 
if  the  mathematician  is  overwhelmed  with  the  grandeur  and  won- 
drous harmony  of  geometrical  forms,  of  the  importance  and  uni- 
versal application  of  mathematical  maxims,  or,  of  the  mysterious 
simplicity  of  its  manifold  laws  which  are  so  self-evident  and  plain 
and  at  the  same  time  so  complicated  and  profound,  he  is  touched  by 
the  poetry  of  his  science;  and  if  he  but  understands  how  to  give  ex- 
pression to  his  feeling's,  the  mathematician  turns  poet,  drawing 
inspiration  from  the  most  abstract  domain  of  scientific  thought. 

Why  a  mathematical  or  otherwise  scientific  poetry  bas  not  yet 
developed,  is  due  simply  to  the  fact  that  there  are  not  enough  mathe- 
maticians in  the  world  to  form  an  audience  sufficiently  large  to  make 
the  man  of  poetical  sentiments  a  real  poet  as  the  word  is  commonly 
understood;  for, the  poet  is  made  by  the  people,  and  public  recog- 
nition is  the  true  laurel  wreath  of  any  real  poet  laureate.  Practic- 
ally speaking,  any  one  who  has  poetical  sentiments  is  potentially  a 
poet,  and  if  he  expresses  his  sentiments  in  words,  he  becomes  in 
fact  a  poet  to  himself.  However,  a  poet  is  known  as  one  only  when 
he  voices  such  sentiments  as  will  find  an  echo  in  the  hearts  of  large 
multitudes  that  recognize  in  him  the  prophet  who  can  find  words 
for  that  which  they  themselves  feel  but  vaguely.  Thereby  be  lie- 
comes  a  poet  in  name  as  well  as  in  fact. 

Thus  the  main  condition  of  a  poet  recognized  in  literature  as 
great,  depends  not  merely  upon  himself,  but  also  upon  the  circum- 
stances under  which  he  writes.  No  poet  can  originate  in  a  countrj 
where  poetry  is  not  appreciated.  The  poetical  galaxy  of  tin-  classical 
period  of  Germany  was  conditioned  by  the  broad  intellectual  at- 
mosphere which  prevailed  at  that  time,  when  the  Teutons'  fatherland 
was  politically  weak,  but  very  strong  intellectually,  having  its  best 
intellect  concentrated  upon  international  and  human  ideals.  It  was 
an  age  of  cosmopolitan  aspirations. 

All  true  poets  are  prophets  both  in  the  original  sense  oj  the 
word  and  in  its  commonly  accepted  significance.  A  prophet8  i 
preacher,  one  who  propounds  the  law  of  the  higher  life,  o\  tin- 
ideal.  A  prophet  is,  as  the  Hebrew  calls  him,  a  nabi,  a  revealer  oi 
truth,  a  messenger  who  speaks  in  behalf  of  the  moral  world  order, 
expounding  the  duties  which  it  involves.     Prophets  are  confronted 


34 


FRIEDRICH   SCHILLER. 


with  the  same  reality  as  their  fellow  creatures,  but  while  other 
mortals  see  merely  what  is,  prophets  have  the  vision  of  what  ought 
to  be ;  and  by  comprehending  the  law  of  being,  they  actually  can 
foresee  the  future. 

When  Amos,  the  shepherd  of  Tekoah,  witnessed  the  tyranny 
of  the  powerful,  the  oppressiveness  of  the  rich,  and  the  debaucheries 
in  which  the  whole  people  indulged  at  their  national  festivals,  he 
saw  at  once  the  doom  which  this  lack  of  discipline  foreboded ;  and 
he  raised  a  cry  of  alarm  among  the  revelers  at  Bethel,  prophesying 
the  desolation  that  would  follow  in  the  wake  of  their  feasts.  He 
whose  mind's  eye  is  undimmed  by  passion  can  always  see  the  curse 
that  accompanies  sin  and  self-indulgence. 

Schiller  was  the  prophet  of  the  ideal,  the  revealer  of  the  ought ; 
and  at  the  same  time  his  sensitive  nature  made  him  understand  the 
signs  of  the  time,  so  as  to  render  his  poetry  predicions  of  the  near- 
est future.  The  barometer  does  not  better  predict  the  weather  than 
did  Schiller's  dramas  the  great  historical  events  of  the  age  ;  and 
what  is  most  remarkable  is  the  exactness  with  which  the  German 
poet  anticipated  every  change  in  the  fate  of  the  world  in  regular 
succession.  Thus  Schiller  wrote  "The  Robbers"  in  1780-1781,  and 
the  French  revolution  ensued,  an  outburst  of  the  same  spirit  which 
pervaded  this  drama.  In  1783  Schiller  dramatized  the  story  cf  the 
bold  adventurer  Fiesko,  who  took  possession  of  the  throne  of  Genoa, 
and  Napoleon  soon  afterwards  seized  the  government  of  France 
and  placed  the  imperial  crown  upon  his  head.  In  1791  Schiller 
wrote  his  famous  trilogy  "Wallenstein,"  and  the  succeeding  years 
became  a  period  of  warfare  which  were  paralleled  in  the  history 
of  Europe  only  in  the  campaigns  of  the  great  Duke  of  Friedland. 
Further  on,  in  1801,  Schiller  wrote  "The  Maid  of  Orleans,"  de- 
scribing a  foreign  invasion  and  the  heroic  struggle  for  liberty,  fore- 
shadowing Napoleon's  conquests  and  the  national  rebirth  of  Ger- 
many which  ended  in  the  final  expulsion  of  the  Corsican  invader. 
"William  Tell,"  Schiller's  last  work,  written  in  1804,  is  a  noble 
prophecy  of  the  eventual  union  of  the  German  tribes  which  took 
place  in  much  the  same  way  as  the  Swiss  formed  their  confederacy  ; 
for  united  Germany  also  was  the  result  of  a  self-defence  against 
the  external  danger  of  a  common  foe. 

Schiller's  anticipations  of  coming  events  must  be  startling  to 
those  who  do  not  understand  that  the  poet's  nature  by  his  very 
vision  of  the  ideal  will  necessarily  and  naturally  presage  the  future. 
And  there  was  no  one  among  all  the  prophets  of  the  world  who  had 
a  clearer  and  more  philosophical  grasp  of  the  significance  of  the 


SCHILLER,  A  PHILOSOPHICAL   POET.  IC 

ideal  in  its  relation  to  the  real  than  Schiller;  and  thus  Schiller  has 
become  a  religious  prophet  announcing  a  deeper  conception  of  God 
as  based  upon  the  matured  thought  of  the  philosophy  of  his  time. 

We  cannot  understand  Schiller's  attitude  in  religion  and  phi- 
losophy without  bearing  in  mind  the  influences  which  ancient  Greece 
(and  especially  Plato)  exercised  upon  his  mind.  His  classical  ideas, 
however,  were  matured  through  a  study  of  Kant's  philosophy,  which 
taught  him  to  distinguish  clearly  between  the  formal  and  the  mate- 
rial, in  that  the  formal,  represented  by  the  so-called  Platonic  ideas, 
is  the  most  essential  part  of  existence  from  which  rise  all  our  ideals. 
and  which  alone  can  lift  us  into  a  higher  sphere  of  life. 

Plato  was  the  inventor  of  the  conception  of  the  ideal  from 
which  Philo,  a  Jewish  philosopher  of  Alexandria.  (20  1'..  C. — 40 
A.  D.)  developed  the  doctrine  of  "words"'''  which  manifest  them- 
selves as  virtues  in  the  spiritual  leaders  of  the  world.  Thus  Abra- 
ham is  said  to  be  the  educational  virtue;7  Isaac,  the  ingrained  or 
natural  virtue;8  Jacob,  the  practical  virtue;9  Joseph,  political  virtue, 
as  leading  a  life  of  political  usefulness;10  and  Moses  is  the  pattern 
of  all  virtues;  he  is  the  model  and  a  unique  manifestation  of  the 
word,11  as  the  totality  of  all  words. 

Philo's  logos  doctrine  contains  the  Christian  views  as  expressed 
in  the  Fourth  Gospel.  It  is  a  Platonic  view  that  the  logos  is.  as 
Philo  says,  "the  archetypal  model,  the  idea  of  ideas,"  but  it  is  al- 
ready a  genuine  Christian  thought.  When  Philo  speaks  of  "the 
word  of  the  Supreme  Being"  as  "the  second  Deity,"  and  as  "the 
image12  of  God,  by  whom  all  the  world  has  been  framed."  he  antici- 
pates the  Christology  of  the  second  century. 

While  the  conception  of  the  ideal  is  represented  by  Plato  with 
a  tinge  of  corporeality  as  if  ideas  were  beings  or  things  that  existed 
somewhere  in  an  unspacial  space  and  an  untemporal  time,  and  while 
to  Philo  every  logos  is  a  force11'  performing  work  as  we  might  think 
of  light  and  electricity,  or  tools  employed  by  the  great  architect  of 
the  world  in  his  work  of  creation,  Schiller  conceives  of  die  idea! 
realm  as  forms  with  the  scientific  clearness  that  is  possessed  only 
by  the  trained  mathematician.  The  realm  of  the  ideal  is  not  any- 
thing material,  nor  is  it  dynamical;  it  is  purely  formal.  "^  et  the 
formal  is  the  most  essential  part  of  this  matt-rial  reality  which  is 
the  world  in  which  we  live  and  move  and  have  our  being 

The  purely  formal  is  the  relational,  i.  e.,  thai  which  determines 

6X6yoi.  ''  didaoKaTan},  apt  -/,  <t>von 


36  FRIEDRICH   SCHILLER. 

change  of  position,  and  is  therefore  called  in  Greek  the  causal  or 
causative,14  and  is  contrasted  with  the  material.15 

All  our  spiritual  life  depends  upon  the  formal.  Logic,  arith- 
metic, yea,  reason  itself  is  nothing  but  a  systematization  of  the 
purely  formal  aspect  of  things,  and  moral  aspirations  are  but  its 
application.  Schiller  was  fully  impressed  with  the  significance  of 
the  domain  of  pure  form,  and  so  builds  his  philosophy  upon  the 
traditions  of  classical  antiquity  modified  by  Kantism. 

The  purely  formal  is  not  an  idle  illusion ;  it  is  the  recognition  of 
the  eternal,  the  immutable,  the  absolute,  the  laws  of  which  pervade 
the  whole  universe  and  determine  the  destiny  of  stars  as  well  as  of 
molecules,  of  nations  and  of  every  single  individual  not  less  than 
of  mankind  as  a  whole.  Thus  James  Sime,  compiler  of  the  meagre 
sketch  of  Schiller's  life  in  the  Encyclopaedia  Britannica,  is  right  in 
his  terse  characterization  of  the  poet  when  he  says : 

"Schiller  had  a  passionate  faith  in  an  eternal  ideal  world  to  which  the 
human  mind  has  access;  and  the  contrast  between  ideals  and  what  is  called 
reality,  he  presents  in  many  different  forms." 

This  side  of  Schiller's  poetry  is  little  known  among  the  Eng- 
lish-speaking nations.  Goethe's  philosophy  has  become  accessible 
through  the  excellent  translations  of  several  ingenious  translators, 
men  like  Bayard  Taylor  and  others.  It  appears  that  it  is  even  more 
difficult  to  translate  Schiller  than  Goethe.  Schiller's  verses  sound 
like  music ;  yet  their  language  is  simple,  and  a  native  German  needs 
no  effort  to  understand  their  meaning  at  once.  It  seems  almost 
impossible  to  reproduce  their  elegant  diction  adequately. 

The  most  important  poem  that  sets  forth  Schiller's  confession 
of  faith  in  its  philosophical  foundation  is  his  eulogy  on  "The  Ideal 
and  Life,"  the  most  significant  verses  of  which  are  as  follows: 

"Smooth,  and  ever  clear,  and  crystal-bright, 
Flows  existence  zephyr-light, 
In  Olympus  where  the  blest  recline. 
Moons  revolve  and  ages  pass  away 
But  unchanged,  'mid  ever-rife  decay, 
Bloom  the  roses  of  their  youth  divine. 
Man  has  but  a  sad  choice  left  him  now, 
Sensual  joy  and  soul-repose  between; 
But  upon  the  great  Celestial's  brow, 
Wedded  is  their  splendor  seen. 

"Wouldst  thou  here  be  like  a  deity, 
In  the  realm  of  death  be  free, 
Never  seek  to  pluck  its  garden's  fruit ! 

14  to  a'tTiuSe^.  15  TO  bllKOV. 


SCHILLER,  A  PHILOSOPHICAL   PO 

On  its  beauty  thou  may'st  feed  thine  rye; 
Soon  the  impulse  of  desire  will  lly 
And  enjoyment's  transient  bliss  pollute. 
E'en  the  Styx  that  nine  times  flows  around 
Ceres'  child's  return  could  not  delay ; 
But  she  grasped  the  apple— and  was  bound 
Evermore  by  Orcus'  sway. 

"Yonder  power  whose  tyranny  we  bemoan, 
On  our  bodies  has  a  claim  alone. 
Form  is  never  bound  by  time's  design. 
She  the  gods'  companion,1'''  blest  and  bright 
Liveth  in  eternal  realms  of  light 
'Mongst  the  deities,  herself  divine. 
Wouldst  thou  on  her  pinions  soar  on  high, 
Throw  away  the  earthly  and  its  woe ! 
To  the  ideal  realm  for  refuge  fly 
From  this  narrow  life  below." 

(Translation  by  Bowring  with  the  last  stanza  altered.  ) 

[Ewigklar  und  spiegelrein  und  eben 
Fliesst  das  zephyrleichte  Leben 
Im  Olymp  den  Seligen  dab  in. 
Monde  wechseln,  und  Geschlechter  fliehen  : 
Ihrer  Gotterjugend  Rosen  bluhen 
Wandellos  im  ewigen  Ruin. 
Zwischen  Sinnengluck  und  Seelenfrieden 
Bleibt  dem  Menschen  nur  die  bange  Wahl ; 
Auf  der  Stirn  des  hohen  Uraniden 
Leuchtet  ihr  vermahlter  Strahl. 

Wollt  ihr  schon  auf  Erden  Gottern  gleichen, 
Frei  seiu  in  des  Todes  Reichen, 
Brechet  nicht  von  seines  Gartens  Frucht! 
An  dem  Scheine  mag  der  Blick  sicb  weiden  ; 
Des  Genusses  wandelbare  Freuden 
Rachet  schleunig  der  Begierdc  Flucht. 
Selbst  der  Styx,  der  neunfach  sie  umwindet, 
Wehrt  die  Ruckkehr  Ceres'  Tochter  nicht; 
Nacli  clem  Apfel  greift  sie,  und  es  bindel 
Ewig  sie  des  '  )rkus  Pflicht. 

Nur  der  Korper  eignet  jenen  Machti  n, 
Die  das  dunkle  Schicksal  flechten  ; 
Aber  frei  von  jeder  Zeitgewalt, 
Die  Gespielin  seliger  Naturen, 
Wandelt  oben  in  de    I  ,ii  htes  Fluren 
Gottlieb  unter  Gottern  die  Gestalt, 

18  Die  Gespielin  seeliger  Naturen,  means  the  companion  of  the  blessed  ones,   I   '  .   thi 

Is,  and  not   (as  Mr.   Bowring  lias  it)    "blissful   Nature's  pla; 


274625 


38  FRIEDRICH   SCHILLER. 

Wollt  ihr  hoch  auf  ihren  Fliigeln  schweben, 
Werft  die  Angst  des  Irdischen  von  euch  ! 
Fliehet  aus  dem  engen,  dumpfen  Leben 
In  des  Ideales  Reich!] 

Schiller,  utilizing  the  notions  of  Greek  mythology,  emphasizes 
in  the  thirteenth  stanza  the  contrast  of  pure  form  with  reality  ;  the 
ideal  life,  with  actual  material  existence : 

"In  yon  region  of  pure  forms, 
Sunny  land  e'er  free  from  storms, 
Misery  and  sorrow  cease  to  rave. 
There  our  sufferings  no  more  pierce  the  soul, 
Tears  of  anguish  there  no  longer  roll. 
Nought  remains  but  mind's  resistance  brave. 
Beauteous  as  the  rainbow's  colored  hue, 
Painted  on  the  canvas  of  the  cloud, 
E'en  on  melancholy's  mournful  shroud 
Rest  reigns  in  empyrean  blue." 

[Aber  in  den  heitern  Regionen, 
Wo  die  reinen  Formen  wohnen, 
Rauscht  des  Jammers  triiber  Sturm  nicht  melir. 
Hier  darf  Schmerz  die  Seele  nicht  durchschneiden, 
Keine  Thrane  fliesst  hier  mehr  dem  Leiden, 
Nur  des  Geistes  tapfrer  Gegenwehr. 
Lieblich,  wie  der  Iris  Farbenfeuer 
Auf  der  Donnerwolke  duft'gem  Tau, 
Schimmert  durch  der  Wehmut  diistern  Schleier 
Hier  der  Rube  heitres  Blau.] 

The  eternal  ideals  have  found  an  appropriate  representation 
in  the  mythology  of  Greece,  while  bodily  existence  is  regarded  as 
a  vale  of  tears.  Peace  of  soul  exists  alone  in  the  realm  of  pure  form  ; 
there  no  suffering  exists ;  for  what  is  painful  struggle  in  real  life, 
appears  in  the  domain  of  the  ideal  merely  as  beauteous  contrast. 
Schiller's  description  of  the  region  of  pure  forms  reminds  us  of 
St.  John's  Revelation,  where  we  read:  "And  God  shall  wipe  away 
all  tears  from  their  eyes  ;  and  there  shall  be  no  more  death,  neither 
sorrow,  nor  crying,  neither  shall  there  be  any  more  pain  ;  for  the 
former  things  are  passed  away." 

Pure  form  is  divine,  while  its  bodily  realization  is  mingled 
with  that  element  that  is  of  the  earth  earthy.  [ Therefore  the  poet 
exhorts  us,  in  the  second  stanza  |quoted  above,  I  not  to  lust  after  the 
fruit  of  sensuality;  once  bound  by  its  spell,  we  are  caught  in  the 
maelstrom  of  desire,  leading  to  disgust,  and  the  desire  itself  will 
leave  us,   which   reminds  one  of   Schopenhauer  who   declares   that 


SCHILLER,  A  PHILOSOPHICAL    POET. 


39 


life  is  an  oscillation  between  wants  and  ennui  But  that  is  not  all. 
Schiller  adds  that  enjoyment  involves  us  in  the  doom  of  death,— 
an  idea  in  which  Greek  views  are  strangely  mixed  with  the  resig- 
nation of  the  Buddhist.  |So  long  as  we  are  able  to  discard  all  earthly 
sorrow,  and  seek  refuge  in  the  realm  of  the  ideal,  we  need  not  fear 
death.  Death  is  the  fate  of  Eve  who  tasted  the  forbidden  fruit  of 
sensual  desire,  but  death  has  no  power  over  Proserpine,  Ceres's 
daughter,  the  goddess  of  spring,  whose  return  to  life  from  the 
domain  of  Orcus,  Styx  cannot  prevent.  Schiller's  version  of  the 
Proserpine  myth  (in  which  he  follows  some  classical  hints)  indi- 
cates that  the  daughter  of  Ceres  might  have  returned  to  life  so 
long  as  she  remained  a  goddess,  a  personification  of  an  idea:  but 
as  soon  as  she  partook  of  the  pomegranate  offered  her  by  Pluto, 
she  was  bound  to  stay  in  Orcus. 

It  is  peculiar  to  see  how  Schiller's  views  may  be  characterized 
at  once  as  both  Hellenic  and  as  Buddhistic,  and  quotations  will 
bear  out  these  general  characterizations. 

In  his  famous  poem  "The  Gods  of  Greece,"  he  writes: 

"Ye  in  the  age  gone  by, 

Who  ruled  the  world — a  world  how  lovely  then  ! — 
And  guided  the  steps  of  happy  men 

In  the  light  leading-strings  of  careless  joy! 
Ah,  flourished  then  your  service  of  delight ! 

How  different,  oh,  how  different,  in  the  <!.i\ 
When  thy  sweet  fanes  with  many  a  wreath  were  bright, 

O  Venus  Amathusia ! 

"Then  the  soft  veil  of  dreams 

Round  Truth  poetic  witching  Fancies   wreathed; 
Through  all  creation  overflowed  the  streams 

Of  life — and  things  now  senseless,  felt  and  breatl 
Man  gifted  Nature  with  divinity 

To  lift  and  link  her  to  the  breast  of  Love; 
All  things  betrayed  to  the  initiate  eye 

The  track  of  gods  above ! 

"Where  lifeless,  fixed  afar, 

A  flaming  ball  is  to  our  senses  given, 
Phoebus  Apollo,  in  bis  golden  car, 

In  silent  glory  swept  the  fields  of  1 
Then  lived  the  Dryads  in  yon  forest  tn 

Then  o'er  yon  mountains  did  the  Oread  roam; 
And   from   the   urns   of  gentle    X. 

Welled  the  wave's  silver  foam. 

"In  the  Elysian  grove 
The  Shades  renewed  tin 


40  FRIEDRICPI   SCHILLER. 

The  faithful  spouse  rejoined  remembered  love, 
And  rushed  along  the  course  the  charioteer. 

"More  glorious  than  the  meeds 
To  Labor  choosing  Virtue's  path  sublime, 
The  grand  achievers  of  renowned  deeds 
Up  to  the  seats  of  Gods  themselves  could  climb. 

"Art  thou,  fair  world,  no  more? 

Return,  thou  virgin-bloom,  on  Nature's  face 
Ah,  only  on  the  Minstrel's  magic  shore, 

Can  we  the  footsteps  of  sweet  Fable  trace ! 
The  meadows  mourn  for  the  old  hallowing  life; 

Vainly  we  search  the  earth  of  gods  bereft; 
And  where  the  image  with  such  warmth  was  rife, 

A  shade  alone  is  left ! 

"Cold,  from  the  North,  has  gone 

Over  the  flowers  the  blast  that  killed  their  May; 
And,  to  enrich  the  worship  of  the  One, 

A  Universe  of  Gods  must  pass  away. 
Mourning,  I  search  on  yonder  starry  steeps, 

But  thee  no  more,  Selene,  there  I  see! 
And  through  the  woods  I  call,  and  o'er  the  deeps. 

No  voice  replies  to  me ! 

"Deaf  to  the  joys  she  gives — 

Blind  to  the  pomp  of  which  she  is  possessed — 
Unconscious  of  the  spiritual  Power  that  lives 

Around,  and  rules  her — by  our  bliss  unblessed — 
Dull  to  the  art  that  colors  and  creates, 

Like  the  dead  time-piece,  godless  Nature  creeps 
Her  plodding  round,  and,  by  the  leaden  weight. 

The  slavish  motion  keeps. 

"To-morrow  to  receive 

New  life,  she  digs  her  proper  grave  to-day; 
And  icy  moons  with  weary  sameness  weave 

From  their  own  light  their  fulness  and  decay. 
Home  to  the  Poet's  Land  the  Gods  are  flown, 

A  later  age  in  them  small  use  discerns. 
For  now  the  world,  its  leading-strings  outgrown. 

On  its  own  axle  turns. 

"Home!  and  with  them  are  gone 
The  hues  they  gazed  on  and  the  tones  they  heard 

Life's  Beauty  and  life's  Melody :— alone 

Broods  o'er  the  desolate  void  the  lifeless  Word. 

Yet,  rescued  from  Time's  deluge,  still  they  throng 
Unseen  the  Pindus  they  were  wont  to  cherish; 


SCHILLER,  A  PHILOSOPHICAL    Pi  ^ 

Au    *'        which  gains  immortal  life  in  Song, 
To  mortal  life  must  perish  !" 

(Translation  by  Bulwer-Lytton.) 


[Da  ihr  noch  die  schone  Welt  regieret, 
An  der  Freude  leichtem  Gangelband 
Selige  Geschlechter  noch  gefiihret, 
Schone  Wesen  aus  dem  Fabelland! 
Ach,  da  euer  Wonnedienst  noch  gliinzte, 
Wie  ganz  anders,  anders  war  es  da ! 
Da  man  deine  Tempel  noch  bekranzte, 
Venus  Amathusia! 

Da  der  Dichtung  zauberische  Hiille 
Sich  noch  lieblich  um  die  Wahrheit  wand. 
Durch  die  Schopfung  floss  da  Lebensfulle, 
Und  was  nie  empfinden  wird.  empfand. 
An  der  Liebe  Busen  sie  zu  drucken, 
Gab  man  hohern  Adel  der  Natur, 
Alles  wies  den  eingeweihten  Blicken, 
Alles  eines  Gottes  Spur. 

Wo  jezt  nur,  wie  unsre  Weisen  sagen, 
Seelenlos  ein  Feuerball  sich  dreht, 
Lenkte  damals  seinen  goldnen  Wagen 
Helios  in  stiller  Majestat. 
Diese  Hohen  fiillten  Oreaden, 
Eine  Dryas  lebt'  in  jenem  Baum, 
Aus  den  Urnen  lieblicher  Najaden 
Sprang  der  Strome  Silberschaum. 

Seine  Freuden  traf  der  frohe  Schatten 
In  Elysiens  Hainen  wieder  an, 
Treue  Liebe  fand  den  treuen  Gatten 
Und  der  Wagenlenker  seine  Bahn. 

Hohre  Preise  starkten  da  den  Ringer 
Auf  der  Tugend  arbeitvoller  Bahn; 
Grosser  Thaten  herrliche  Vollbringer 
Klimmten  zu  den  Seligen  hinan. 

Schone  Welt,  wo  bist  du? — Kehre  wieder, 
Holdes  Bliithenalter  der  Natur! 
Ach,  nur  in  dem  Fecnland  der  Lieder 
Lebt  noch  deine  fabelhafte  Spur. 
Au^gestorben  trauert  das  Gefilde, 
Keine  Gottheit  zeigt  sich  meinem  Blick, 
Ach,  von  jenem  lebenwarmen  B 
Blieb  der  Schatten  nur  zuriick, 


\2  FRIEDRICH   SCHILLER. 

Alle  jene  Bluthen  sind  gef alien 
Von  ties  Nordes  schauerlichem  Wehn ; 
Einen  zu  bereichern  unter  alien, 
Musste  diese  Gotterwelt  vergehn. 
Traurig  such'  ich  an  dem  Sternenbogen, 
Dich,  Selene,  find'  ich  dort  nicht  mehr ; 
Durch  die  Walder  ruf  ich,  durch  die  Wogen, 
Ach  !  sie  widerhallen  leer! 

Unbewusst  der  Freuden,  die  sie  schenket, 
Nie  entzuckt  von  ihrer  Hcrrlichkeit, 
Nie  gewahr  des  Geistes,  der  sie  lenket, 
Sel'ger  nie  durch  meine  Seligkeit, 
Fuhllos  selbst  fiir  ihres  Kiinstlers  Ehre, 
Gleich  dem  toten  Schlag  der  Pendeluhr, 
Dient  sie  knechtisch  dem  Gesetz  der  Schwere, 
Die  entgotterte  Natur. 

Morgen  wieder  neu  sich  zu  entbinden, 
Wiihlt  sie  heute  sich  ihr  eignes  Grab, 
Und  an  ewig  gleicher  Spindel  winden 
Sich  von  selbst  die  Monde  auf  und  ab. 
Miissig  kehrten  zu  dem  Dichterlande 
Heim  die  Gotter,  unniitz  einer  Welt, 
Die,  entwachsen  ihrem  Gangelbande, 
Sich  durch  eignes  Schweben  halt. 

Ja,  sie  kehrten  heim,  und  alles  Schone, 
Alles  Hohe  nahmen  sie  mit  fort, 
Alle  Farben,  alle  Lebenstone, 
Und  uns  blieb  nur  das  entseelte  Wort. 
Aus  der  Zeitflut  weggerissen,  schweben 
Sie  gerettet  auf  des  Pindus  Holm ; 
Was  unsterblich  im  Gesang  soil  leben. 
Muss  im  Leben  untergehn.] 

Judging  from  the  text  of  "The  Gods  of  Greece"  it  would  he 
inferred  that  Schiller  is  hostile  to  Christianity,  but  this  is  not  \\w 
case.  His  love  for  Greek  paganism  only  points  out  an  aspect  in 
the  conception  of  the  world,  which  orthodox  Christianity  in  his 
time  neglected.  Schiller  himself  in  a  letter  to  Korner  says  with 
reference  to  "The  Gods  of  Greece":  "If  I  succeed  in  making  out 
of  the  shortcomings  of  religion  or  ethics  a  beautiful  and  consistent 
whole,  I  have  made  a  piece  of  art  which  is  neither  immoral  nor 
impious,  for  the  very  reason  that  I  took  both,  not  as  they  are,  but 
as  they  became  after  the  forceful  operation  of  their  separation  and 
new  combination.  The  God  whom  I  criticize  in  'The  Gods  of 
Greece'  is  not  the  God  of  the  philosophers  nor  the  beneficent  dream 


SCHILLER,  A  PHILOSOPHICAL  POET. 


43 


of  the  multitudes,  but  he  is  one  abortion  out  of  many  errom 

misshapen  conceptions The  gods  of  Greece  as  I  represent  them 

are  only  the  beautiful  qualities  of  Greek  mythology  comprehended 
in  one  general  idea." 

There  is  a  truth  in  the  polytheism  of  Greece  which,  philosoph- 
ically expressed,  would  identify  the  gods  with  the  eternal  types  of 
being  commonly  called  Platonic  ideas.  In  this  ideal  realm  there 
is  no  sorrow,  no  grief,  no  pain,  because  everything  material  as  well 
as  everything  sensual  is  excluded.  It  is  thus  as  much  contrasted 
with  bodily  existence  as  the  Buddhist  Nirvana  is  to  the  Samsara,  the 
domain  of  birth  and  death,  the  eternal  round  of  existence,  the  wheel 
of  being. 

The  condition  of  Nirvana  according  to  Buddha  is  the  attain- 
ment of  enlightenment  which  involves  in  its  practical  application 
the  surrender  of  all  clinging  to  the  pleasures  of  sense,  and  obviously 
Schiller's  view  is  to  all  practical  purposes  the  same.  The  mental 
enjoyment  of  the  artist,  of  the  scientist,  will  be  unimpaired  so  long 
as  egotistic  passions  are  not  roused.  This  world  of  material  reality 
is  intrinsically  a  world  of  struggle,  unrest,  and  suffering,  and  the 
ideals  of  peace  including  the  aspiration  of  the  true,  the  good,  ami 
the  beautiful  must  be  realized  within  our  own  soul.     Schiller  says: 

"To  thy  heart's  still  fane  flee  from  the  real ; 
There  take  refuge  from  life's  anxious  throng. 
Freedom  lives  but  in  thy  dream's  ideal, 
And  the  beautiful  blooms  but  in  song." 

(Translation  by  I'.  C.) 

[In  des  Herzens  heilig  stille  Raume 
Musst  du  fliehen  aus  des  Lebens  Drang! 

Freiheit  ist  nur  in  dem  Reich  der  Traume, 
Und  das  Scheme  bluht  nur  im  Gesang.] 

Schiller  regards  as  grievously  mistaken  the  well-intentioned 
idealist  who  believes  that  he  can  ever  attain  a  final  slate  of  perfection, 
that  he  can  realize  the  golden  age  on  earth.  The  evils  of  life  are  nol 
unlike  the  giant  Antaeus  of  the  Greek  myth.  As  soon  as  Eierakles 
threw  this  son  of  Earth  to  the  ground  he  rose  stronger  than  before, 
because  at  each  contact  he  received  new  strength  from  his  mother. 
Hence  it  was  only  possible  for  the  hero  to  conquer  him  by  lifting 
him  high  in  the  air  and  keeping  him  at  a  distance  from  th< 
of  his  strength.  Finally,  Schiller  believes  thai  then-  is  no  finality 
to  our  search  for  truth,  although  the  true  exists  and  there  is  an 
obvious  difference  between  truth  and  untruth.      Man)  in  I  can  never 


44  FRIEDRICH   SCHILLER. 

have  the  fulness  of  truth  in  such  a  way  that  it  can  be  formulated 
in  the  shape  of  a  dogma.  Whenever  man  has  tried  to  do  so,  he 
soon  held  an  empty  formula  while  the  spirit  of  the  truth  was  lost. 
Thus  the  "three  words  of  error"  to  Schiller  are :  belief  in  eternal 
peace,  in  which  the  good  would  no  longer  have  to  struggle :  belief 
in  the  attainment  of  happiness,  or  an  earthly  reward  of  virtue ;  and 
a  consummation  of  man's  advance  in  the  search  for  truth. 

The  idea  that  the  realization  of  truth  is  rather  a  process  than 
a  dogma — a  single  statement  summed  up  in  a  formula — and  that 
much  depends  on  the  way  in  which  we  search  for  and  reach  the 
truth,  is  set  forth  in  the  impressive  poem  "The  Veiled  Image  at 
Sals,"  which  was  suggested  to  Schiller  by  a  passage  in  Plutarch 
describing  the  statue  of  Isis  in  the  temple  of  Sais  which  bore  the 
inscription  reminding  us  of  the  definition  of  the  name  of  Yahveh 
in  the  Old  Testament:  "I  am  who  was  and  shall  be." 

THE   VEILED   IMAGE   AT   SAIS. 

"A  youth,  athirst  with  hot  desire  for  knowledge. 
To  Sals  came,  intent  to  explore  the  dark 
And  hoarded  wisdom  of  Egyptian  priests. 
Through  many  a  grade  of  mystery,  hurrying  on. 
Far,  and  more  far,  still  pressed  the  inquiring  soul, 
And  scarce  the  Hierophant  could  cool  or  calm 
The  studious  fever  of  impatient  toil. 
'What,'  he  exclaimed,  'is  worth  a  part  of  Truth'' 
What  is  my  gain  unless  I  gain  the  whole? 
Hath  knowledge,  then,  a  lesser  or  a  more? 
Is  this, — thy  Truth, — like  sensual  gross  enjoyment, 
A  sum  doled  out  to  each  in  all  degrees, 
Larger  or  smaller,  multiplied  or  minished? 
Is  not  Truth  one  and  indivisible? 
Take  from  the  Harmony  a  single  tone — 
A  single  tint  take  from  the  Iris  bow, 
And  lo !  what  once  was  all,  is  nothing — while 
Fails  to  the  lovely  whole  one  tint  or  tone !' 

"Now,  while  they  thus  conversed,  they  stood  within 
A  lonely  temple,  circle-shaped,  and  still ; 
And,  as  the  young  man  paused  abrupt,  his  gaze 
Upon  a  veil'd  and  giant  Image  fell : 
Amazed  he  turn'd  unto  his  guide — 'And  what 
Beneath  the  veil  stands  shrouded  yonder?' 

'Truth,' 
Answered  the  Priest. 

'And  do  I,  then,  for  Truth 
Strive,  and  alone?     And  is  it  now  bv  this 


SCHILLER,  A  PHILOSOPHICAL  POET.  .- 

Thin  ceremonial  robe  that  Truth  is  hid? 
Wherefore  ?' 

'That  wherefore  with  the  Goddess  rests; 
"Till  I"— thus  saith  the  Goddess— "lift  this  veil, 
May  it  be  raised  by  none  of  mortal-born  ! 
He  who  with  guilty  and  unhallowed  hand 
Too  soon  profanes  the  Holy  and  Forbidden- 
He,"  says  the  Goddess' — 

'Well  ?' 

'  "He— shall  see  Truth  !"  ' 
'A  rare,  strange  oracle !     And  hast  thou  never 
Lifted  the  veil?' 

'No!  nor  desired  to  raise!' 
'What!  nor  desired?     Were  /  shut  out  from  Truth 
By  this   slight  barrier'— 'And   Command   divine,' 
Broke  on  his  speech  the  guide.     'Far  weightier,  son, 
This  airy  gauze  than  thy  conjectures  deem- 
Light  to  the  touch— lead-heavy  to  the  conscience!' 

"The  young  man.  thoughtful,  turn'd  him  to  his  home, 
And  the  fierce  fever  of  the  Wish  to  Know 
Robb'd  night  of  sleep.     Upon  his  couch  he  roll'd;— 
At  midnight  rose  resolved.     Unto  the  shrine 

"Timorously  stole  the  involuntary  step, 
And  light  the  bound  that  scaled  the  holy  wall. 
And  dauntless   was  the   spring  that  bore   within 
That  circle's  solemn  dome  the  daring  man. 

"Now  halts  he  where  the  lifeless  silence  sleeps 
In  the  embrace  of  mournful  Solitude. 
Silence  unstirred,— save  by  the  hollow  echo 
Answering  his  tread  along  mysterious  vaults! 
High  from  the  opening  of  the  dome  above, 
Came  the  wan  shining  of  the  silver  moon. 
And,  awful  as  some  pale  presiding  god, 
Glistening  adown  the  range  of  vaults  obscure, 
In  its  long  veil  concealed  the  Image  stood. 

"With  an  unsteady  step  he  onward  passed, 
Already  touched  with  violating  hand 
The  Holy — and  recoil'd!     A  shudder  thrilled 
His  limbs,  fire-hot  and  icy-cold  bj    Minis, 
And  an  invisible  arm  did  seem  to  pluck  him 
Back  from  the  deed. — 'O  miserable  man! 
What  would'st  thou?'    (Thus  within  the  inmosl   heart 
Murmured  the  warning  whisper.)    'Will  thou  dare 
The  All-hallowed  to  profane?    "May  mortal  born 
(So  spake  the  oracle)  not  lifl  the  veil 
Till  I  myself  shall  raise!"    Yet   said  it   not, 


46  FRIEDRICH   SCHILLER. 

The  self-same  oracle — "Who  lifts  the  veil, 

He  shall  see  Truth  ?"     Behind,  be  what  there  may, 

I  dare  the  hazard — I  will  lift  the  veil — ' 

Loud  rang  his  shouting  voice — 'Truth  I'll  behold  !' 

'Hold!'— 
A  lengthened  echo,  mocking,  answered  back! 
He  spoke  and  raised  the  veil !     And  ask  ye  what 
Unto  the  gaze  was  there  to  him  revealed? 
I  know  not.     Pale  and  senseless,  at  the  foot 
Of  the  dread  statue  of  Egyptian  Isis, 
The  priests  there  found  him  at  the  dawn  of  day; 
But  what  he  saw,  or  what  did  there  befall, 
His  lips  disclosed  not.     Ever  from  his  heart 
Was  fled  the  sweet  serenity  of  life, 
Deep  anguish  dug  for  him  an  early  grave: 
'Woe — woe  to  him' — such   were  his  warning  words, 
Answering  some  curious  and  impetuous  brain, 
'Woe — for  she  never  shall  delight  him  more ! 
Woe — woe  to  him  who  treads  through  Guilt  to  Truth!'' 

(Translation  after  Bulwer-Lytton.) 


[Ein  Jiingling,  den  des  Wissens  heisser  Durst 
Nach  Sais  in  Aegypten  trieb,  der  Priester 
Geheime  Weisheit  zu  erlernen,  hatte 
Schon  manchen  Grad  mit  schnellem  Geist  durcheilt ; 
Stets  riss  ihn  seine  Forschbegierde  weiter, 
Und  kaum  besanftigte  der  Hierophant 
Den  ungeduldig  Strebenden.     "Was  hab'  ich, 
Wenn  ich  nicht  alles  babe?"  sprach  der  Jiingling; 
"Giht's  etwa  bier  ein  Weniger  und  Mehr? 
1st  deine  Wahrheit,  wie  der  Sinne  Gliick, 
Nur  eine  Summe,  die  man  grosser,  kleiner 
Besitzen  kann  und  immer  doch  besitzt? 
1st  sie  nicht  eine  einz'ge,  ungeteilte? 
Nimm  einen  Ton  aus  einer  Harmonic 
Nimm  eine  Farbe  aus  dem  Regenbogen, 
Und  alles,  was  dir  bleibt,  ist  nichts,  so  lang 
Das  scheme  All  der  Tone  fehlt  und  Farben." 

Indem  sie  einst  so  sprachen,  standen  sie 
In  einer  einsamen  Rotonde  still, 
Wo  ein  verschleiert  Bild  von  Riesengrosse 
Dem  Jiingling  in  die  Augen  liel.    Verwundert 
Blickt  er  den  Fiihrer  an  und  spricht :  "Was  ist's, 
Das  hinter  diesem  Schleier  sich  verbirgt?" — 
"Die  Wahrheit,"  ist  die  Antwort — "Wie?"'  ruft  jener, 
"Nach  Wahrheit  streb'  ich  ja  allein,  und  these 
Gerade  ist  es,  die  man  mir  verhiillt?" 


SCHILLER,  A  PHILOSOI'IIHAI.   POET.  47 

"Das  mache  mit  der  Gottfreit  au>."  vei 
Der  Hierophant.     ''Kein  Sterblicher,  sagt  sie, 
Riickt  diesen  Schleier,  bis  ich  sdbst  ihn  hebe. 
Und  wer  mit  ungeweihter,  schuld'ger  Hand 
Den  heiligen,  verbotnen  friiher  hebt, 

Der,  spricht  die  Gottheit" — "Nun?" — '"Der  sieht  die  Wahrheit."- 
"Ein  seltsamer  Orakelsprucli !     Du  selbst, 
Dn  hattest  also  niemals  ihn  gehoben?" — 
"Ich?     Wahrlich  nicht!     Und  war  audi  nie  dazu 
Versucht." — "Das  fass'  ich  nicht.    Wenn  von  der  Wahrheit 
Nur  diese  dtinne  Scheidewand  mich  trennte" 
"Und  ein  Gesetz,"  fallt  ihm  sein  Fiihrer  ein. 
"Gewichtiger,  mein  Sohn,  als  du  es  meinst, 
1st  dieser  diinne  Flor — fur  deine  Hand 
Zwar  leicht,  doch  zentnerschwer  fiir  dein  Gewissen." 

Der  Jiingling  ging  gedankenvoll  nach  Haibr  ; 
Ihm  raubt  des  Wissens  brennende  Begier 
Den  Schlaf,  er  walzt  sich  gluhend  auf  dem  Lager 
Und  rafft  sich  auf  urn  Mitternacht.    Zum  Tempel 
Fiihrt  unfreiwillig  ihn  der  scheue  Tritt. 
Leicht  ward  es  ihm,  die  Mauer  zu  ersteigen, 
Und  mitten  in  das  Innre  der  Rotonde 
Tragt  ein  beherzter  Sprung  den  Wagenden. 

Hier  stent  er  nun,  und  grauenvoll  umfangt 
Den  Einsamen  die  lebenlose  Stille, 
Die  nur  der  Tritte  hohler  Widerhall 
In  den  geheimen  Griiften  unterbricht. 
Von  oben  durch  der  Kuppel  Oeffnung  wirft 
Der  Mond  den  bleichen,  silberblauen  Schein, 
Und  furchtbar,  wie  ein  gegenwart'ger  G.ott, 
Erglanzt  durch  des  Gewolbes  Finsternisse 
In  ihrem  langen  Schleier  die  Gestalt. 

Er  tritt  hinan  mit  ungewissem  Schritt: 
Schon  will  die  freche  Hand  das  Heilige  beruhren, 
Da  zuckt  es  heiss  und  kiihl  durch  sein  Gebein 
Und  stosst  ihn  weg  mit  unsichtbarem  Ann. 
Ungliicklicher,  was  willst  du  thun?  so  rufl 
In  seinem  Innern  eine  treue  Stimme. 
Versuchen  den  Allheiligen  willst  du? 
Kein  Sterblicher,  sprach  des  Orakels  Mund 
Riickt  diesen  Schleier,  bis  ich  selbsl  ihn  hebe. 
Doch  setzte  nicht  derselbe  Mund  hinzu: 
Wer  diesen  Schleier  hebt,  soil  Wahrheil  scl 
"Sei  hinter  ihm,  was  will '     tch  heb'  ihn  auf." 
Er  ruft's  mit  laiiter  Stimm'':  "Ich  will  sie  schauen." 

Schauen ! 

Gellt  ihm  ein  langes  Echo  ;pottend 


48  FRIEDRICH  SCHILLER. 

Er  spricht's  und  hat  den  Schleier  aufgedeckt. 
"Nun,"  fragt  ihr,  "und  was  zeigte  sich  ihm  hier?" 
Ich  weiss  es  nicht.     Besinnungslos  und  bleich, 
So  fanden  ihn  am  andern  Tag  die  Priester 
Am  Fussgestell  der  Isis  ausgestreckt. 
Was  er  allda  gesehen  und  erfahren, 
Hat  seine  Zunge  nie  bekannt.    Auf  ewig 
War  seines  Lebens  Heiterkeit  dahin, 
Ihn  riss  ein  tiefer  Gram  zum  fruhen  Grabe. 
"Weh  dem,"  dies  war  sein  warnungsvolles  Wort, 
Wenn  ungestiime  Frager  in  ihn  drangen, 
"Weh  dem,  der  zu  der  Wahrheit  geht  durch  Schuld : 
Sie  wird  ihm  nimmermehr  erfreulich  sein." 

As  might  be  expected,  Schiller's  view  of  immortality  is  also 
idealized  by  Greek  mythology.  He  hated  the  representation  of 
death  as  a  skeleton  with  all  the  terrors  and  repulsive  horrors  of 
decay.  In  "The  Gods  of  Greece"  he  protests  against  the  prevalent 
view  of  death,  praising  the  Greek  conception  of  the  genius  of  the 
inverted  torch  and  alluding  to  the  Thracian  legend  of  Orpheus 
which  had  become  current  in  classical  Greece,  evincing  the  victory 
of  music,  the  ideal,  over  the  infernal  powers. 

"Before  the  bed  of  death 
No  ghastly  specter  stood ; — but  from  the  porch 
Of  the  lip — one  kiss  inhaled  the  breath. 

And  a  mute  Genius  gently  lowered  his  torch. 
The  judgment  balance  of  the  realms  below, 

A  judge,  himself  of  mortal  lineage,  held; 
The  very  Furies,  at  the  Thracian's  woe, 
Were  moved  and  music-spelled." 

(Translation  by  Bulwer-Lytton.) 

[Damals  trat  kein  grassliches  Gerippe 
Vor  das  Bett  des  Sterbenden.     Ein  Kuss 
Nahm  das  letzte  Leben  von  der  Lippe, 
Seine  Fackel  senkt'  ein  Genius. 
Selbst  des  Orkus  strenge  Richterwage 
Kielt  der  Enkel  einer  Sterblichen, 
Und  des  Thrakers  seelenvolle  Klage 
Ruhrte  die  Erinnyen.] 

There  is  a  connection  between  the  living  and  the  dead  which 
is  symbolized  in  plant  life,  and  this  simile  is  used  in  the  New  Testa- 
ment by  Paul  (i  Cor.  xv,  36)  and  also  in  the  Gospel  of  St.  John 
(John  xii,  24)  where  Jesus  says:  "Except  a  corn  of  wheat  fall 
into  the  ground  and  die,  it  abideth  alone ;  but  if  it  die,  it  bringeth 
forth  much  fruit."     For  this  idea  the  author  of  the  fourth  Gospel 


SCHILLER.  A  PHILOSOPHICAL   POET. 


49 


and  Paul  are  supposed  to  be  indebted  to  Orphic  mysteries.  The 
resurrection  of  nature  in  spring  symbolizes  the  continued  soul  life 
of  man  after  death.  This  is  also  expressed  in  the  great  classical 
hymn  to  Demeter  (or  as  she  is  called  with  her  Latinized  name. 
Ceres)  a  poem  which  has  been  retold  by  Schiller  in  his  two  poems 
"The  Complaint  of  Ceres"  and  "The  Eleusinian  Festival."  The 
significance  of  plant  life  is  expressed  as  follows:17 


"Is  there  naught  of  her — no  token 
And  no  pledge  from  her  loved  hand, 
Proving  love  to  be  unbroken, 
Howsoever  far  the  land? 
Can  no  loving  bond  be  spread, 
That  will  child  to  mother  bind? 
Can  between  the  quick  and  dead 
Hope  no  blest  communion  find? 
No !  not  every  bond  is  riven, 
Separation  not  complete ; 
The  eternal  powers  have  given 
Us  a  symbol  language  sweet. 

"Spring's   fair  children  pass  away, 
In  the  Northland's  icy  air ; 
Leaf  and  flower  alike  decay, 
Leaving  withered  branches  bare. 
But  I  choose  life's  noblest  glow 
From  Vertumnus'  lavish  horn ; 
As  a  gift  to  Styx  below 
Will  I  send  the  golden  corn! 
Sad  in  earth  the  seeds  I  lay 
At  thy  heart,  my  child,  to  be 
Mournful  tokens  which  convey 
My  deep  grief  and  love  to  thee ! 

"When  the   seasons'  measured  dances 
Happy  smiles  of  earth  restore, 
In  the  sun's  reviving  glances 
What  was  dead  will  live  once  more! 
Germs  that  perished  to  thine  eyes 
In  the  dreary  lap  of  earth 


Bloom  again  in  gentler  skies. 
Brighter  for  the  second  birth  ! 
While  its  roots  in  night  repose; 
Lleaven  will  raise  the  stem  above; 
Thus  the  plant  between  them  grows 
Nursed  by  Styx'  and  /Ether's  love. 

"Partly  plants  with  Hades  sleep, 
Partly  live  in  life's  fair  beams; 
Heralds  are  they  from  the  deep, 
Messengers    from   solemn   streams. 
Like  my  child,  the  dismal  tomb 
Will  them  for  a  while  retain  ; 
But  anon  their  tender  bloom 
Spring  sends  forth  to  light  again, 
Telling  that  where  shadows  meet, 
Though  so  far  from  light  above, 
Hearts  remain  that  faithful  beat, 
Hades  doth  not  conquer  love. 

"Hail!  ye  children  of  the  field, 
Whom  each  coming  year   renews ! 
Your  sweet  cups  shall  richly  yield 
Heaven's  purest  nectar-dews. 
Steeped  in  light's  resplendent   streams, 
Hues  that  streak  the  Iris-bow 
Deck  your  blossoms  with  the  beam-, 
Which  in  morning  twilight  glow. 
Budding  life  of  happy  spring, 
Yellow  autumn's  faded  leaf, 
Shall  to  hearts  in  sorrow  bring 
Symbols  of  my  joy  and  grief." 


(Translation  after  Bulwer  Lytton.) 


[1st  mir  nichts  von  ihr  geblieben? 
Nicht  ein  suss  erinnernd   Pfand, 
Dass  die  Fernen  sich  noch  lieben, 
Keine  Spur  der  teuren  Hand? 
Kniipfet  sich  kein  Liebesknoten 
Zwischen  Kind  und  Mutter  an? 

17  "Complaint  of  Ceres,"  verses  7-1 1. 


Zv,  1  cheri    Lebenden   und   Toten 

1st  kein   Biindn 

Win.  nicht  gan 

.Win,  wir  sind  iiichl  ■  in       <  '"  n"1  ' 

I  [abi  n  im:      I  ■   I  tohen 

Eine  Sprache  doch  vergonnl  ! 


50 


FRIEDRICH   SCHILLER. 


Wenn   des  Friihlings  Kinder  ster- 
ben, 
Wenn  von  Nordes  kaltem  Hauch 
Blatt  und  Blume  sich  entfarben, 
Traurig  steht  der  nackte   Strauch, 
Nebm'  icb  mir  das  hochste  Leben 
Aus  Vertumnus'  reichem  Horn, 
Opfernd  es  dem  Styx  zu  geben, 
Mir  des  Samens  goldnes  Korn. 
Trauernd  senk'  ich's  in  die  Erde, 
Leg'  es  an  des  Kindes  Herz, 
Dass  es  eine  Sprache  werde 
Meiner  Liebe,  meinem  Schmerz. 

Fiibrt  der  gleiche  Tanz  der  Horen 
Freudig  nun  den  Lenz  zuriick, 
Wird  das  Tote  neu  geboren 
Von  der  Sonne  Lebensblick. 
Keime,  die  dem  Auge  starben 
In  der  Erde  kaltem  Schoss, 
In  das  heitre  Reich  der  Farben 
Ringen  sie  sich  freudig  los. 
Wenn  der  Stamm  zum  Himmel  eilet, 
Sucht  die  Wurzel  scheu  die  Nacht ; 
Gleich  in  ihre.Pflege  teilet 
Sich  des  Styx,  des  Aethers  Macht. 


Halb  beriihre'n  sie  der  Toten, 
Halb  der  Lebenden  Gebiet ; 
Ach,  sie  sind  mir  teure  Boten, 
Svisse  Stimmen  vom  Cocyt ! 
Halt  er  gleich  sie  selbst  verschlossen 
In  dem  schauervollen  Schlund, 
Aus   des   Friihlings  jungen   Sprossen 
Redet  mir  der  holde  Mund, 
Dass  auch  fern  vom  goldnen  Tage, 
Wo  die   Schatten  traurig  ziehn, 
Liebend  noch  der  Busen  schlage, 
Zartlich  noch  die  Herzen  gluhn. 

O,  so  lasst  euch  froh  begriissen, 
Kinder  der  verjiingten  An  ! 
Euer  Kelch  soil  iiberfliessen 
Von  des  Nektars  reinstem  Tau. 
Tauchen  will  ich  euch  in  Strahlen, 
Mit  der  Iris  schonstem  Licht 
Will  ich  eure  Blatter  malen, 
Gleich  Aurorens  Angesicht. 
In  des  Lenzes  heiterm  Glanze 
Lese  jede  zarte  Brust, 
In  des  Herbstes  welkem  Kranze 
Meinen  Schmerz  und  meine  Lust.] 


In  "The  Eleusinian  Festival"  Schiller  describes  the  Greek  con- 
ception of  human  civilization  as  based  upon  a  love  of  freedom 
regulated  by  self-control  and  moral  restraint.  Having  established 
agriculture  and  built  the  polity  of  communal  life,  Demeter  says: 

"Freedom's   love   the   beast   inflameth, 
And  the  God  rules  free  in  air, 
While  the  law  of  Nature  tameth 

Each  wild  lust  that  lingers  there. 
Yet,  when  thus  together  thrown, 

Man  with  man  must  fain  unite ; 
And  by  his  own  worth  alone 

Can  he  freedom  gain  and  might." 

(Translation  by   Bowring.) 


[Freiheit  liebt  das  Tier  der  Wiiste, 
Frei  im  Aether  herrscht  der  Gott, 
Ihrer  Brust  gewalt'ge  Liiste 
Zahmet  das  Naturgebot ; 
Doch  der  Mensch  in  ihrer  Mitte 
Soil  sich  an  den  Menschen  reihn, 
Und  allein  durch  seine  Sitte 
Kann  er  frei  und  machtig  sein.] 


SCHILLER,  A  PHILOSOPHICAL   POET.  5  I 

We  see  that  Schiller  indeed  was  not  merely  a  poet  but  a  phi- 
losopher. His  philosophy,  however,  agreed  very  little  with  the 
verbiage  and  cant  of  the  schools  that  posed  before  the  world  as 
holding  in  their  abstract  philosophy  the  key  to  the  explanation  of 
the  universe.  Metaphysics,  according  to  Kantian  terminology,  deals 
with  purely  formal  notions  of  science,  and  the  purely  formal  as 
Kant  expresses  it,  is  empty  as  such.  Thus  it  allows  ns  a  survey 
over  the  sciences  and  the  whole  field  of  experience.  It  sums  up 
generalizations,  which,  although  in  themselves  mere  tautologies, 
help  us  to  arrange  our  scientific  material  in  a  systematic  way.  I  low 
ridiculous,  then,  is  the  metaphysician  whose  philosophy  is  a  mere 
air  castle  and  who  forgets  that  it  should  serve  the  practical  purpose 
of  survey.  Schiller  satirizes  wiseacres  of  this  type  in  the  following 
lines : 

"  'How  deep  the  world  beneath  me  lies ! 

My  craft  the  loftiest  of  all 
Lifts  me  so  high,  so  near  the  skies 

I  scarce  discern  the  people  crawl." 

"Tims  shouts  Tom  Roofer  from  his  spire, 
Thus  in  his  study  speaks  with  weighl 
Metaphysicus,  the  learned  sire, 
That  little  man,  so  high,  so  great. 

"That  spire,  my  friend,  proud  and  profound. 
Of  what  is't  built,  and  on  what  ground? 
How  came  you  up?    What  more  is't  worth, 
Than  to  look  down  upon  the  earth  ?" 

(Translation  by  P.  C.) 

["Wie  tief  liegt  tmter  mir  die  Welt ! 
Kaum  seh'  ich  noch  die  Mensehlein  unten  wallen  ! 
Wie  tragt  mich  meine  Kunst.  die  hochste  tmter  alien, 
So  nahe  an  des  Himmels  Zelt  !" 
So  ruft  von  seines  Turmes  Dache 
Der  Schieferdecker,  so  der  kleine  grosse  Mann, 
Hans  Metaphysikus,  in  seinem  Schreibgemache. 
Sag'  an,  du  kleiner  grosser  Mann, 

Der  Turm,  von  dem  dein  Blick  so  vornehm  niederschauet, 
Wovon  ist  er— worauf  is1  er  erbauet? 
Wie  kamst  du  selbst  hinauf— und  seine  kahlen  Hohn, 
Wozu  sind  sic  dir  nut/,  als  in  das  Thai 

In    another   poem    of   the    same    significance   entitled    "Philo 
ophers,"  Schiller  ridicules  those  theorists  wh..  misunderstand   the 
part  their  philosophies  play  in  life,  which  is  nol  i-  direel  the  world 


52 


FRIEDRICH   SCHILLER. 


but  to  explain  it.  Philosophers  need  not  worry  about  the  universe 
for  that  will  take  care  of  itself,  and  until  their  wisdom  can  discover 
a  method  of  changing  matters,  the  world  will  continue  to  run  ac- 
cording to  the  old  principles — it  will  still  be  swayed  by  hunger  and 
love. 


"To  learn  what  gives  to  everything 
The  form  which  we  survey, 
The  law  by  which  th'Eternal  King 
Moves  all  creation's  ordered  ring, 
And  keeps  it  in  right  sway- — ■ 
Who  answer  gives  without  disguise, 
He  is  the  wisest  of  the  wise. 
The  secret  I'll  betray, 
'Ten  is  not  twelve,'  I  say. 

"The  snow  is  chill,  the  fire  burns, 
Men  bipeds  are;  a  fool 
The  sun  up  in  the  sky  discerns  : 
This,   man   through   sense-experience 

learns 
Without   attending   school ! 
But  Metaphysics,  I  am  told, 
Declares  that  hot  is  never  cold ; 
Dryness,  not  moist ;  and  light 
Is  never  dark  but  bright. 


"Homer  had  writ  his  mighty  song, 
Heroes  did  danger  scorn, 
The  good  had  done  their  duty,  long 
Before  (and  who  shall  say  I'm 

wrong?) 
Philosophers  were  born ! 
Yet  let  but  some  great  heart  or 

mind 
Perform  great  deeds,  some  sage 

will  find 
The  reason  why :     He'll  show 
That  this  thing  could  be  so. 


"Might  claims  its  right.     That's 

true  always, 
And   weaklings   strength    o'erpowers. 
He   who  cannot  command  obeys — 
In  short,  there's  not  too  much  to 

praise 
On  this  poor  earth  of  ours. 
But  how  tilings  better  might  be  done, 
If  sages  had  this  world  begun, 
Is  plainly,  you  must  own, 
In  moral  systems  shown. 

"  'Man  needs  mankind,  must  be 

confessed, 
His  labors  to  fulfill ; 
Must  work,  or  with,  or  for,  the  rest. 
'Tis  drops  that  swell  the  ocean's  breast, 
'Tis  water  turns  the  mill. 
The  savage  life  for  man  unfit  is, 
So  take  a  wife  and  live  in  cities.' 
In  universities 
Maxims  are  taught  like  these. 


"Yet,    since   what   grave    professors 

teach 
The  crowd  is   rarely  knowing, 
Meanwhile,  old  Nature  looks  to  each, 
Tinkers  the  chain,  and  mends  the 

breach, 
And  keeps  the  clockwork  going. 
Some  day,  philosophy,  no  doubt, 
A  better  world  will  bring  about. 
Till  then  the  world  will  move 
By  hunger  and  by  love !" 

(Translation  after  Bulwer-Lytton.) 


[Der  Satz,  durch  welchen  alles 
Ding 
Bestand  und  Form  empfangen, 
Der  Nagel,  woran  Zeus  den  Ring 
Der  Welt,  die  sonst  in  Scherben  ging, 
Vorsichtig  aufgehangen. 
Den  nenn'  ich  einen  grossen  Geist, 


Der  mir  ergriindet,  wie  er  heisst, 
Wenn  ich  ihm  nicht  drauf  helfe — 
Er  heisst :  Zehn  ist  nicht  Zwolfe. 

Der  Schnee  macht  kalt,  das  Feuer 

brennt, 
Der  Mensch  geht  auf  zwei  Fiissen. 


SCHILLER,  A  PHILOSOPHICAL  POET. 


53 


Die  Sonne  scheint  am  Firmament, 
Das  kann,  wer  audi  nicht  Logik 

kennt, 
Durch  seine  Sinne  wissen. 
Doch  wer  Metaphysik  studiert, 
Der  weiss,  dass,  wer  verbrennt,  nicht 

friert, 
Weiss,  dass  das  Xasse  feuchtet 
Und  dass  das  Helle  leuchtet. 

Homerus  singt  sein  Hochgedicht, 
Der  Held  besteht  Gefahren; 
Der  brave  Mann  thut  seine  Pflicht 
Und  that  sie,  ich  verhehT  es  nicht, 
Eh'  noch  Weltweise  waren; 
Doch  hat  Genie  und  Herz  vollbracht, 
Was  Lock'  und  Des  Cartes  nie  ge- 

dacht, 
Sogleich  wird  auch  von  diesen 
Die  Moglichkeit  bewiesen. 

Im  Leben  gilt  der  Starke  Recht, 
Dem  Schwachen  trotzt  der  Kiihne, 
Wer  nicht  gebieten  kann,  ist  Knecht; 
Sonst  geht  es  ganz  ertraglich  schlecht 
Auf  dieser  Erdenbuhne. 
Doch  wie  es  ware,  fing  der  Plan 


Der  Welt  nur  er^t  von  vornen  an, 
1st  in  Moralsystemen 
Ausfiihrlich  zu  vernehmen. 

"Der  Mensch  bedarf  des  Menschen 
sehr 
Zu  seinem  grossen  Ziele : 
Nur  in  dem  Ganzen  wirket  er, 
Viel  Tropfen  geben  ersl  das  Meer, 
Viel  Wasser  treibt  die  Miihle. 
Drum  flieht  der  vvilden  Wolfe  Stand 
Und  kniipft  des  Staates  dauernd 

Band." 
So  lehreri  vom  Katheder 
Herr  Puffendorf  und  Feder. 

Doch  weil,  was  ein  Professor 
spricht, 
Nicht  gleich  zu  Allen  dringet, 
So  ubt  Natur  die  Mutterpflicht 
Und  sorgt,  dass  nie  die  Kette  bricht 
Und  dass  der  Reif  nie  springet, 
Einstweilen,  bis  den  Ban  der  Welt 
Philosophic  zusammenhalt, 
Erhalt  sie  das  Getriebe 
Durch  Hunger  und  durch  Liebe.] 


And  what  is  the  ethics  to  which  Schiller's  philosophy  leads? 
Schiller  says : 

"Man  before  the  law  feels  base, 
Humbled  and  in  deep  disgrace. 
Guilt  e'en  to  the  holy  ones  draws  nigh. 
Virtue  pales  before  the  rays  of  truth. 
From  the  ideal  every  deed,  forsooth, 
Must  in  shame  and  in  confusion  fly. 
None  created  e'er  surmounted  this, 
Neither  a  bridge's  span  can  hear. 
Nor  a  boat  o'er  that  abyss, 
And  no  anchor  catches  there. 

"But  by  flying  from  the  sen-.-  confined 
To  the  freedom  of  the  mind, 
Every  dream  of  fear  thou'll  find  thence  flown, 
And  the  endless  depth  itself  will  fill. 
If  thou  tak'st  the  Godhead  in  thy  will. 
It  no  longer  sits  upon  its  thn 

«  Schiller's  expressions  that  "God  descends  from  his  throne"  a 
eigntv,"  have  been  misunderstood  by  Mr.  Bowring. 
idiom  which  means  "descends"  and  not  "rises  ''     He  tran 

"Will  soar  upwards  from  its  earthly  thn 


54  FRIEDRICH   SCHILLER. 

Servile  minds  alone  will  feel  its  sway 
When  of  the  law  they  scorn  the  rod, 
For  with  man's  resistance  dies  away 
E'en  the  sovereignty  of  God." 

[Wenn  ihr  in  der  Menschheit  traur'ger  Blosse 
Steht  vor  des  Gesetzes  Grosse, 
Wenn  dem  Heiligen  die  Schuld  sich  naht, 
Da  erblasse  vor  der  Wahrheit  Strahle 
Eure  Tugend,  vor  dem  Ideale 
Fliehe  mutlos  die  beschamte  That. 
Kein  Erschaffner  hat  dies  Ziel  erflogen ; 
Ueber  diesen  grauenvollen  Schlund 
Tragt  kein  Nachen,  keiner  Briicke  Bogen, 
Und  kein  Anker  findet  Grund. 

Aber  fliichtet  aus  der  Sinne  Schranken 
In  die  Freiheit  der  Gedanken, 
Und  die  Furchterscheinung  ist  entflohn, 
Und  der  ew'ge  Abgrund  wird  sich  fiillen ; 
Nehmt  die  Gottheit  auf  in  euren  W-illen, 
Und  sie  steigt  von  ihrem  Weltenthron. 
Des  Gesetzes  strenge  Fessel  bindet 
Nur  den  Sklavensinn,  der  es  verschmaht ; 
Mit  des  Menschen  Widerstand  verschwindet 
Auch  des  Gottes  Majestat.] 

This  is  an  ethics  both  of  modesty  and  of  moral  endeavor: 
modesty  recognizing  man's  limitations  and  insufficiencies ;  and  moral 
endeavor  which  appreciates  man's  dignity  and  sets  before  him  a 
high  aim.  Since  the  ideal  can  never  be  attained  in  its  purity,  even 
the  holy  man  is  not  free  from  guilt,  and  absolute  perfection  can 
never  be  realized.  Nevertheless,  the  ideal  is  not  a  beyond  ;  it  is  an 
immanent  presence  which  can  find  its  incarnation  in  man.  And  the 
ideal  ceases  to  appear  as  an  implacable  condemnation  of  our  short- 
comings as  soon  as  it  dominates  our  entire  being.  He  whose  will 
is  determined  by  the  ideal,  can  say  of  God.  "I  and  the  Father  are 
one."     God  is  no  longer  above,  but  within  him.     Says  Schiller: 

"Nehmt  die  Gottheit  auf  in  euren  Willen, 
Und  sie  steigt  von  ihrem  Weltenthron." 

When  man  becomes  divine,  the  God-man  appears  and  God  ab- 
dicates his  throne.  This  is  Schiller's  Christology,  which  looks  very 
much  like  outspoken  atheism,  but  it  is  the  same  atheism  for  which 
Socrates  drank  the  hemlock.  It  is  the  same  blasphemy  for  which 
Christ  was  crucified.  It  is  an  expression  of  that  moral  endeavor 
which  renders  man  divine  and  gives  rise  to  the  ideal  of  the  God-man. 


SCHILLER,  A  PHILOSOPHICAL  POET. 

In  the  same  sense  that  permeates  these  lines  of  his  poem  "The 
Ideal  and  Life,"  Schiller  expresses  himself  in  his  "Words  of  Faith," 
which  contain  his  poetical  formulation  of  Kant's  postulates  of  Free- 
dom, Virtue,  and  God.    Schiller  says  : 

"Three  words  I  proclaim,  important  and  rare. 
From  mouth  unto  mouth  they  fly  ever, 
The  heart  to  their  truth  will  witness  bear, 
Through  the  senses  you'll  prove  them  never." 
Man  will  no  longer  his  worth  retain. 
Unless  these  words  of  faith  remain. 

"For  Liberty  man  is  created ;  he's  free, 
Though  fetters  around  him  be  clinking. 
Let  the  cry  of  the  mob  never  terrify  thee, 
Nor  the  scorn  of  the  dullard  unthinking  ! 
Beware  of  the  slave  when  he  breaks  from  his  chain,"'" 
But  fear  not  the  free  who  their  freedom  maintain. 

"And  Virtue  is  more  than  an  empty  sound. 
It  can  in  each  life  be  made  real. 
Man  often  may  stumble,  before  it  be  found, 
Still,  he  can  obtain  this  ideal. 

And  that  which  the  learned  in  their  learning  ne'er  knew, 
Can  be  practised  by  hearts  that  are  childlike  and  true. 

"And  a  God,  too,  there  is,  a  purpose  sublime, 
Though  frail  may  be  human  endeavor. 
High  over  the  regions  of  space  and  of  time 
One  idea  supreme  rules  forever. 
While  all  things  are  shifting  and  tempesl   pressed, 
Yet  the  spirit  pervading  the  change  is  at  rest. 

"Preserve  these  three  words,  important  ami  rare. 
Let  them  fly  from  mouth  to  mouth  ever, 
Your  heart  to  their  truth  will  witness  bear, 
Though  the  senses  will  prove  them  never. 
Man  will  forever  his  worth  retain, 
While  these  three  words  of  faith  remain." 

(Translation  alter  Bowring. ) 

[Drei  Worte  nenn'  ich  euch,  inhaltschwer, 

Sie  gehen  von  Munde  zu  Munde, 
Doch  stammer  sie  nicht  von  au    en  her; 

i»  Schiller  has  here  in  mind  the  contrast  made  by    Kant    I 
the  outside  and  thought,  having  its  roots  in  tin-  pun    forms  ol   oui    n 
to  say  that  the  three  ideas,  "freedom  (i.  c,  ..."  '   virtue,  a.,.'   I 

sense-given. 

»  While   Schiller   says,   "the  slave  must    b. 
man,"  Bowring  translates,  "Fear  not  the  bold  sli 


56  FRIEDRICH  SCHILLER. 

Das  Herz  nur  gibt  davon  Kunde. 
Dem  Menschen  ist  aller  Wert  geraubt, 
Weiin  er  nicht  mehr  an  die  drei  Worte  glaubt. 

Der  Mensch  ist  frei  geschaffen,  ist  frei, 

Und  wiird'  er  in  Ketten  geboren, 
Lasst  euch  nicht  irren  des  Pobels  Geschrei, 

Nicht  den  Missbrauch  rasender  Thoren ! 
Vor  dem  Sklaven,  wenn  er  die  Kette  bricht, 
Vor  dem  freien  Menschen  erzittert  nicht ! 

Und  die  Tugend,  sie  ist  kein  leerer  Schall, 

Der  Mensch  kann  sie  iiben  im  Leben, 
Und  sollt  er  auch  straucheln  uberall, 

Er  kann  nach  der  gottlichen  streben, 
Und  was  kein  Verstand  der  Verstandigen  sieht, 
Das  ubet  in  Einfalt  ein  kindlich  Gemuth. 

Und  ein  Gott  ist,  ein  heiliger  Wille  lebt, 

Wie  audi  der  menschliche  wanke ; 
Hoch  iiber  der  Zeit  und  dem  Raume  webt 

Lebendig  der  hochste  Gedanke, 
Und  ob  alles  in  ewigem  Wechsel  kreist, 
Es  beharret  im  Wechsel  ein  ruhiger  Geist. 

Die  drei  Worte  bewahret  euch,  inhaltschwer, 

Die  pflanzet  von  Munde  zu  Munde, 
Und  stammen  sie  gleich  nicht  von  aussen  her, 

Euer  Innres  gibt  davon  Kunde. 
Dem  Menschen  ist  nimmer  sein  Wert  geraubt, 
So  lang  er  noch  an  die  drei  Worte  glaubt.] 

When  Schiller  speaks  of  God  as  "a  purpose  sublime,"  literally, 
"a  holy  will,"  "ein  heiliger  Wille"  and  as  "the  idea  supreme,"  "der 
hochste  Gedanke" ;  and  when  he  contrasts  God  with  the  restlessness 
of  the  world,  stating  that  "a  spirit  of  rest  pervades  all  change," 
Es  beharret  im  Wechsel  ein  ruhiger  Geist,  we  do  not  believe  that 
these  expressions  were  framed  under  strain  of  versification.  They 
must,  in  our  opinion,  be  regarded  as  carefully  worded  definitions 
which  are  the  matured  product  of  the  poet's  thought,  and  considering 
their  deep  significance,  we  make  bold  to  claim  Schiller  (not  less 
than  Goethe)  as  one  of  the  most  clear-sighted  prophets  of  the 
modern  world-conception  which  recognizes  in  science  a  true  revela- 
tion of  God. 

The  reader  who  has  followed  us  thus  far,  can  very  well  under- 
stand that  in  narrow  church  circles  which  in  Schiller's  time  had 
monopolized   religion,  his  convictions   were  not   deemed   orthodox. 


SCHILLER,  A  PHIL0SOFIIU  Al.   POET.  ;,- 

He  has  frequently  been  decried  as  an  infidel,  a  pagan,  and  an  enemy 
to  Christianity,  but  later  generations  have  rendered  a  more  impartial 
and  calmer  judgment.  The  present  view  has  been  well  state  1  bj 
Professor  Carruth  in  his  essay  "Schiller's  Religion."21  It  is  a  col- 
lection of  pertinent  passages  especially  in  Schiller's  correspondence. 
He  sums  up  his  views  as  follows : 

"Schiller  rejected  practically  the  whole  theological  system  of 
the  Church  as  he  understood  it,  and,  very  explicitly : 

"All  impeachments  of  the  law-full-ness  of  the  Universe,  includ- 
ing Special  Revelation,  the  inspiration  and  peculiar  authority  of  the 
Bible,  the  exceptional  divinity  of  Jesus,  his  miraculous  origin  and 
deeds,  and  especial  providences. 

"He  distrusted  religious  organizations  of  all  kinds,  fearing  their 
tendency  to  fetter  the  human  spirit,  whereas  he  found  the  very  life 
of  the  spirit  to  consist  in  the  liberty  to  discover  and  assimilate  the 
will  of  God.  Hence  he  avoided  and  to  some  extent  antagonized 
the  hierarchy,  the  clergy,  public  worship,  and  all  rites  and  cere- 
monies. 

"And  from  these  sources,  supported  by  the  evidence  of  his 
poems  and  dramas,  we  will  find  his  religious  sentiment,  far  from 
being  simply  negative,  was  deep  and  reverent  and  sincere.  I  In- 
one  simple  couplet,  Mem  Glaube,  shows  why  he  stood  apart  from 
the  relieious  organizations  of  his  day.  And  while  the  poet's  rev- 
erent spirit  shunned  the  formulation  of  a  credo,  the  foregoing  ex- 
tracts from  his  writings  afford  ample  basis  for  declaring  that  he 
held  the  following  beliefs  in  a  more  or  less  positive  way: 

"He  believed  steadfastly,  with  no  more  hesitation  and   inter- 
mission  than   many   a  patriarch   and   saint,   in   one   All-good,     Ml 
wise,  All-knowing,  Loving  Power,  immanent  in  the  Universe,  and 
especially  in  man. 

"He  believed  in  Virtue  supremely  and  trusted  the  [nner  \  oice, 
its  monitor,  holding  virtue  to  be  the  harmonious  adaptation  of  the 
individual's  will  to  the  will  of  God  as  revealed  in  the  laws  and  his 
tory  of  the  universe  and  in  the  heart  of  man. 

"He  believed  with  a  strong  faith  in  Immortality,  wavering 
sometimes  as  to  the  persistence  of  the  individual  consciousness,  and 
rejecting  all  attempts  to  locate  and  condition  the  future  state. 

"He  believed  in  the  Brotherhood  of  man.  and  trusted  man  as 
the  image  of  God  on  earth. 

"He  recognized  the  greatness  of  Jesus  of  Nazareth  and  revered 

his  ethics  and  his  life. 

21  The  Open  Court,  Vol.  XIX,  pp.  321-336. 


58  FRIEDRICH  SCHILLER. 

"He  recognized  the  immense  service  to  mankind  of  the  Chris- 
tian religion. 

"He  was  intensely  reverent  toward  all  that  was  good  and  beauti- 
ful, and  worshiped  sincerely  in  his  own  way,  which  was,  indeed, 
not  the  way  of  the  Church. 

"Schiller  had  a  true  feeling  in  his  youth  when  he  believed  him- 
self called  to  preach.  And  in  fact  he  did  not  forsake  the  calling, 
but  chose  only  a  wider  and  freer  pulpit  than  the  Church  at  that  time 
afforded  him.  Every  one  who  approached  Schiller  closely  in  life 
or  in  his  writings  was  impressed  with  this  sense  of  his  priestly  and 
prophetic  character,  using  the  words  in  their  best  sense.  So  true 
is  this,  that  one  of  the  chief  criticisms  of  Schiller's  work,  on  the  part 
of  those  who  hold  that  the  artist  must  love  beauty  for  beauty's  sake 
alone,  has  been  this  tendency  to  preach. 

"For  my  own  part,  the  beauty  of  outward  Nature,  the  beauty 
of  truth,  and  the  beauty  of  holiness  seem  to  me  but  varying  mani- 
festations of  the  one  Beauty.  A  complete  religion  will  ignore  none 
of  them,  though  apparently  it  will  dwell  more  and  more  on  the 
beauty  of  virtue.  The  supreme  poet  will  ever  be  near  to  the  priest, 
and  I  cannot  find  their  alliance  a  reproach  to  either. 

"From  the  standpoint  of  the  enlightened  thought  of  the  twen- 
tieth century  Schiller  was  without  question  a  deeply  religious  man, 
and  all  of  his  writings  no  less  than  his  life  bear  testimony  to  the 
fact." 

Schiller's  religion  was  not  limited  to  any  sect,  and  indeed  he 
avoided  giving  allegiance  to  any  particular  creed,  because  his  re- 
ligious faith,  although  very  definite,  was  broader  and  more  deeply 
rooted  than  any  one  of  those  confessions  of  faith  which  the  Chris- 
tian dogmatism  of  his  time  could  offer  him.  He  took  the  religious 
problem  too  seriously  to  accept  any  set  of  formulas  without  making 
them  his  own  and  transforming  them  into  a  religion  that  was  ten- 
able before  the  tribunal  of  both  his  philosophy  and  his  conscience. 
This  apparent  lack  of  religion  was  an  evidence  of  his  extraordinary 
religious  seriousness,  which  he  expressed  in  the  famous  distich: 

"What  my  religion?    I'll  tell  you  !    There  is  none  among  all  you  may  mention 
Which  I  embrace. — And  the  cause?     Truly,  religion  it  is!" 

(From  Cams,  God  lie  and  Schiller's  Xenions.) 

[Welche  Religion  ich  bekenne?     Keine  von  alien. 

Die  du  mir  nennst!     Und  warum  keine?    Aus  Religion.] 


SCHILLER'S  POETRY. 

HAVING  extracted  from  Schiller's  philosophical  poetr)  the  most 
important  passages  that  characterize  his  philosophy  and  view  s 
of  life,  we  will  now  reproduce  a  selection  of  such  poems  as  arc  typ- 
ical of  his  style  and  the  treatment  of  his  subjects. 

Schiller's  life  work  divides  itself  naturally  into  three  periods 
(i)  the  time  of  storm  and  stress,  characterized  by  "The  Robbers"; 


schillek's  residence  at  weimar. 
Where  he  spent  the  last  period  of  his  life. 

(2)  the  years  of  search  beginning  with  his  High'    from  Stutl 
we  might  call  them  Lehr-  und  Wanderjahre     an  era   full  ol   I 
painful  anxiety  and  high  aspiration,  the   fairest    flowers  of  which 
are  his  "Hymn  to  Joy"  and  "The  Gods  of  '  it    '  and  finall)    1  .V 

the  period  of  mature  self-possessed  manhood  when,  in  the  1 
his  friends,  supported  by  the  ennobling  influence  of  his  wife  ; 


6o 


FRIEDRICH   SCHILLER. 


Schiller's  flight  from  stuttgart  to  mannheim. 


SCHILLER  S  POETRY. 


(-1 


aided  by  the  warm  friendship  and  beneficial  advice  of  Goethe,  he 
had  reached  the  zenith  of  his  poetic  power  and  created  his  great 
dramas  and  exquisite  ballads,  typified  respectively  by  "Wallenstein" 
and  "The  Lay  of  the  Bell." 

His  earlier  sentimentalism  reasserts  itself  in  one  of  the  first 
poems  of  his  third  period,  called  "Expectation."  His  "Pegasus  in 
Harness"  combines  idealism  and  humor.  "The  Division  of  the 
Earth"  is  written  in  Goethe's  simple  and  direct  style  and  shows  the 
influence  which  the  older  poet  exercised  upon  his  mind.  Goethe 
in  his  turn  was  influenced  bv  Schiller,  and  we  may  in  this  connection 


SCHILLER  S  STUDY. 
The  room  in  which  the  poet  died.     I  After  a  photograph.  ) 

mention  that  his  poem  "The  Minstrel"  is  written  in  Schiller's  im- 
petuous manner.  The  very  beginning  Was  hor'  ich  draussen  vor 
don  Thort  etc.  recalls  the  first  line  of  Schiller's  "Diver."  Wer  wagt 
es,  Rittcrsmann  odor  Knapp'f  In  both  poems  we  have  the  exclama- 
tory question  of  Schiller's  emotional  language.  The  "Hymn  to 
Joy"  has  been  set  to  music  by  Beethoven.  The  "<  avahv  Son-"  has 
become  a  popular  folk-son^  the  first  line  of  which  has  entered  into 
the  daily  life  of  the  German  army  by  becoming  the  bugle-call  for 
mounting.  The  "Proverbs  of  Confucius"  have  little  to  do  with  tin- 
Chinese  sage,  but  are  the  poet's  own  moralizing  on  time  and  space. 


62  FRIEDRICH   SCHILLER. 

"Light  and  Warmth"  treats  of  the  contrast  between  feeling  and  the 
intellect. 

We  refrain  from  quoting  Schiller's  "Ballads"  which  have  be- 
come household  poems  throughout  Germany  and  furnish  the  main 
literary  pabulum  for  German  schools.  Most  of  the  themes  are  taken 
from  classical  sources  ;  such  are  the  "Ring  of  Polycrates,"  "Cranes 
of  Ibycus,"  "Cassandra."  "Hero  and  Leander,"  "The  Hostage." 
But  in  every  case  the  German  poet  improves  upon  the  traditional 
myth  without  doing  violence  to  the  classical  spirit.  Other  poems, 
such  as  the  "Knight  of  Toggenburg,"  "Fight  with  the  Dragon," 
"Fridolin,"  "Count  of  Hapsburg,"  and  "The  Glove,"  belong  to 
feudal  times,  but  breathe  the  spirit  of  modernized  Christianity. 
Though  their  subjects  are  romantic,  the  treatment  is  the  same  as  in 
his  purely  classical  poetry. 

Schiller  has  also  tried  his  hand  at  distichs  and  hexameters,  but 
he  has  not  been  fortunate  with  this  properly  classical  meter.  The 
"Xenions"  are  mostly  limping  in  their  feet,  and  his  classical  meters 
have  been  surpassed  by  minor  contemporary  poets  such  as  Johann 
Heinrich  Voss  who  made  a  specialty  of  them. 

We  conclude  this  little  volume  with  a  full  quotation  of  the 
"Lay  of  the  Bell"  as  being  the  most  famous  as  well  as  the  most 
peculiarly  characteristic  of  Schiller's  poems. 

Though  our  collection  is  limited  to  what  we  deem  indispensable 
for  forming  a  fair  judgment,  it  suffices  to  exhibit  the  wealth  of 
Schiller's  work  which  is  the  more  remarkable  as  the  poet  died  pre- 
maturely in  his  forty-sixth  year. 

EXPECTATION. 

One  of  Schiller's  later  poems,  "Expectation,"  afforded  the 
artist,  C.  Jaeger,  a  good  opportunity  to  paint  the  poet's  portrait 
in  the  midst  of  beautiful  scenic  surroundings.  He  is  represented 
as  seated  in  a  garden  awaiting  with  impatience  the  arrival  of  his 
love.    The  poem  opens  with  the  lines: 

"Do  I  not  hear  the  gate  flying? 
Did  not  the  latchet  just  fall? 
No,  'tis  but  the  zephyr  sighing 
Gently  through  the  poplars  tall." 

[Hor'  ich  das  Pfortchen  nicht  gehen? 
Hat  nicht  der  Riegel  geklirrt? 

Nein,  es  war  des  Windes  Wehen, 

Der  durch  diese  Pappeln  schwirrt] 


SCHILLER  S  POETRY. 


63 


The  lover's  imagination  interprets  every  noise  into  an  evidence 
of  his  sweetheart's  approach ;  but  he  continues  to  be  disappointed 
until  the  sun  sets,  the  moon  rises,  and  he  himself  falls  asleep,  his 
expectation  assuming  the  shape  of  a  dream.  At  last  the  vision  be- 
comes a  fact  and  his  patience  is  rewarded : 


"And  as  from  the  heavens  de  cending, 

Appears  the  sweet  moment  of  bliss, 

In  silence  her  steps  thither  bending, 

She  wakened  her  love  with  a  kiss." 

(Translation  by    Bowring.) 


64  FRIEDRICH   SCHILLER. 

[Und  leis,  wie  aus  himmlischen  Hohen 
Die  Stunde  des  Gluckes  erscheint, 
So  war  sie  genaht,  ungesehen, 
Und  weckte  mit  Kiissen  den  Freund.l 


PEGASUS  IN  HARNESS. 

'Once  to  a  horse-fair, — it  may  perhaps  have  been 
Where  other  things  are  bought  and  sold, — I  mean 
At  the  Haymarket, — there  the  muses'  horse 
A  hungry  poet  brought — to  sell,  of  course. 

'The  hippogriff  neigh'd  shrilly,  loudly, 
And  reared  upon  his  hind-legs  proudly; 
In  utter  wonderment  each  stood  and  cried : 
'The  noble  regal  beast !     But,  woe  betide ! 
Two  hideous  wings  his  slender  form  deface, 
The  finest  team  he  else  would  not  disgrace.' — 
'The  breed,'  said  they,  'is  doubtless  rare. 
But  who  would  travel  through  the  air?'- — 

'Not  one  of  them  would  risk  his  gold. 
At  length  a  farmer  grew  more  bold: 
'His  wings,  I  of  no  use  should  find  them, 
But  easy  'tis  to  clip  or  bind  them  ! 
The  horse  for  drawing  may  be  useful  found, — 
So,  friend,  I  don't  mind  giving  twenty  pound!' 
The  other,  glad  to  sell  his  merchandise, 
Cried,  'Done!' — And  Hans  rode  off  upon  his  prize. 

'The  noble  beast  was  hitched  without  ado, 
But  scarcely  felt  the  unaccustomed  load, 
When,  panting  to  soar  upwards,  off  he  flew, 
And  filled  with  honest  anger,  overthrew 
The  cart  where  a  deep  ditch  just  met  the  road. 
'Ho !  ho !'  thought  Hans :  'No  cart  to  this  mad  beast 
I'll  trust.     Experience  makes  one  wise  at  least. 
To  drive  the  coach  to-morrow  now  my  course  is, 
And  he  as  leader  in  the  team  shall  go. 
The  lively  fellow  saves  me  full  two  horses ; 
As  years  pass  on,  he'll  doubtless  tamer  grow.' 

'All  went  on  well  at  first.     The  nimble  steed 

His  partners  roused.     Like  lightning  was  their  speed. 

What  happened  next?    Toward  heaven  was  turned  his  eye: 

Unused  across  the  solid  ground  to  fly, 

He  quitted  soon  the  safe  and  beaten  course, 

And  true  to  nature's  strong  resistless  force, 

Ran  over  bog  and  moor,  o'er  hedge  and  pasture  tilled. 

An  equal  madness  soon  the  other  horses  filled, — 


Schiller's  poetry.  65 

No  reins  could  hold  them  in,  no  help  was  near. 
Till, — only  picture  the  poor  travelers'   tear! — 
The  coach,  well  shaken,  and  completely  wrecked. 
Upon  a  hill's  steep  top  at  length  was  checked. 

"  'If  this  is  always  sure  to  be  the  case.' 
Hans  cried,  and  cut  a  very  sorry  face, 
'He'll  never  do  to  draw  a  coach  or  wagon; 
Let's  see  if  we  can't  tame  the  fiery  dragon 
By  means  of  heavy  work  and  little  food.' 
And  so  the  plan  was  tried. — But  what  ensued? 
The  handsome  beast,  before  three  days  had  passed, 
Wasted  to  nothing.     'Now  I  see  at  lasl  !' 
Cried  Hans.     'Be  quick,  you  fellows!  yoke  him  now 
With  my  most  sturdy  ox  before  the  plow.' 

"No  sooner  said  than  done.     In  union  queer 
Together  yoked  were  soon  winged  horse  and  steer. 
The  griffin  pranced  with  rage,  and  his  remaining  might 
Exerted  to  resume  his  old-accustomed  flight. 
'Twas  all  in  vain.    His  partner  stepped  with  circumspection, 
And  Phcebus'  haughty  steed  must  take  bovine  direction; 
Until  at  last,  by  long  resistance  spent, 
When  strength  his  limbs  no  longer  was  controlling, 
The  noble  creature  with  affliction  bent, 
Fell  to  the  ground,  and  in  the  dust  lay  rolling. 
'Accursed  beast !'  at  length  with  fury  mad 
Hans  shouted,  while  he  soundly  plied  the  lash, — 
'Even  for  plowing,  then,  thou  art  too  bad ! — 
That  fellow  was  a  rogue  to  sell  such  trash  !' 

'Ere  yet  his  heavy  blows  had  ceased  to  fly, 
A  brisk  and  merry  youth  by  chance  came  by. 
A  lute  was  tinkling  in  his  hand, 
And  through  his  light  and  flowing  hair 
Was  twined  with  grace  a  golden  hand. 
'Whither,  my  friend,  with  that  strange  pair?' 
From  far  he  to  the  peasant  cried. 
'A  bird  and  ox  to  one  rope  tied — 
Was  such  a  team  e'er  heard  of,  pray? 
Thy  horse's  worth  I'd  fain  essay; 
Just  for  a  moment  lend  him  me, — 
Observe,  and  thou  shalt  wonders  se<  !' 

'The  hippogriff  was  loosened  from  the  plow, 
Upon  his  back  the  smiling  youth  leaped  now; 
No  sooner  did  the  creature  understand 
That  he  was  guided  by  a  master- hand. 
Than  champed  his  bit,  and  upward  soared, 
While  lightning  from  In    eye    outpoured, 


66 


FRIEDRICH   SCHILLER. 


No  longer  the  same  being,  royally, 

A  spirit,  ay,  a  god,  ascended  he. 

Spread  in  a  moment  to  the  stormy  wind 


His  noble  wings,  and  left  the  earth  behind. 
And,  ere  the  eye  could  follow  him. 
Had  vanished  in  the  heavens  dim." 

(Translation  by  Bowring.) 


schiller's  poetry.  67 


Pegasus  im  Jochc. 

[Auf  einem  Pferdemarkt — vielleicht  zu  llaymarket, 
Wo  andre  Dinge  noch  in  Ware  sich  verwandeln, 
Bracht'  einst  ein  hungriger  Poet 
Der  Musen  Ross,  es  zu  verhandeln. 

Hell  wieherte  der  Hippogryph 
Und  baumte  sich  in  prachtiger  Parade ; 
Erstaunt  blieb  jeder  stehn  und  rief: 
Das  edle,  konigliche  Tier !     Nur  schade, 
Dass  seinen  schlanken  Wuchs  ein  hasslich  Fliigelpaar 
Entstellt !     Den  schonsten  Postzug  wiird'  es  zieren. 
Die  Rasse,  sagen  sie,  sei  rar, 
Doch  wer  wird  durch  die  Luft  kutschieren? 
Und  keiner  will  sein  Geld  verlieren. 
Ein  Pachter  endlich  fasste  Mut. 

Die  Fliigel  zwar,  spricht  er,  die  schaffen  keinen  Xutzen; 
Doch  die  kann  man  ja  binden  oder  stutzen, 
Dann  ist  das  Pferd  zum  Ziehen  immer  gut. 
Ein  zwanzig  Pfund,  die  will  ich  wohl  dran  wagen. 
Der  Tauscher,  hochvergnugt.  die  Ware  loszuschlagen, 
Schlagt  hurtig  ein.     "Ein  Mann,  ein  Wort!" 
Und  Hans  trabt  frisch  mit  seiner  Beute  fort. 

Das  edle  Tier  wird  eingespannt: 
Doch  fiihlt  es  kaum  die  ungewohnte  Biirde, 
So  remit  es  fort  mit  wilder  Flugbegierde 
Und  wirft,  von  edelm  Grimm  entbrannt, 
Den  Karren  urn  an  eines  Abgrunds  Rand. 
Schon  gut.  denkt  Hans.    Allein  darf  ich  dem  tolleri  Tiere 
Kein  Fuhrwerk  mehr  vertraun.     Erfahrung  macht  schon  klug. 
Doch  morgen  fahr'  ich  Passagiere, 
Da  stell'  ich  es  als  Vorspann  in  den  Zug. 
Die  muntre  Krabbe  soil  zwei  Pferde  mir  ersparen; 
Der  Roller  gibt  sich  mit  den  Jahren. 

Der  Anfang  ging  ganz  gut.     Das  leichtbeschwingte  Pferd 
Belebt  der  Klepper  Schritt,  und  pfeilschnell  fliegt  der  V 
Doch  was  geschieht?    Den  Blick  den  Wolken  zugekehrt, 
Und  ungewohnt.  den  Grund  mil  festem  Hut  zu  schlagen, 
Verlasst  es  bald  der  Rader  sichre  Spur. 
Und,  treu  der  starkeren  Xatur. 

Durchrennt  es  Sumpf  und  Moor,  geackerl   Feld  und  H< 
Der  gleiche  Taumel  fasst  das  ganze  Postgespann, 
Rein  Rufen  hilft.  kein  Ziigel  hall  es  an, 
Bis  endlich,  zu  der  Wandrer  Schrecken, 
Der  Wagen,  wohlgeriittelt  und  zerschellt, 
Auf  eines  Berges  steilem  Gipfel  halt. 


68  FRIKDRICH   SCHILLER. 

Das  geht  nicht  zu  mit  rechten  Dingen, 
Spricht  Hans  mit  sehr  bedenklichem  Gesicht, 
So  wird  es  nimmermehr  gelingen ; 
Lass  sehn,  ob  wir  den  Tollwurm  nicht 
Durch  magre  Kost  und  Arbeit  zwingen. 
Die  Probe  wird  gemacht.     Bald  ist  das  schone  Tier, 
Eh  noch  drei  Tage  hingeschwunden, 

Zum  Schatten  abgezehrt.     Ich  hab's,  ich  hab's  gefnnden ! 
Ruft  Hans.    Jetzt  frisch,  und  spannt  es  mir 
Gleich  vor  den  Pflug  mit  meinem  stiirksten  Stier! 

Gesagt,  gethan.    In  lacherlichem  Zuge 
Erblickt  man  Ochs  und  Flugelpferd  am  Pfluge. 
Unwillig  steigt  der  Greif  und  strengt  die  letzte  Macht 
Der  Sehnen  an,  den  alten  Flug  zu  nehmen. 
Umsonst ;  der  Nachbar  schreitet  mit  Bedacht, 
Und  Phobus'  stolzes  Ross  muss  sich  dem  Stier  bequemen, 
Bis  nun,  vom  langen  Widerstand  verzehrt, 
Die  Kraft  aus  alien  Gliedern  schwindet, 
Von  Gram  gebeugt  das  edle  Gotterpferd 
Zu  Boden  stiirzt  und  sich  im  Staube  windet. 

Verwiinschtes  Tier!  bricht  endlich  Hansens  Grimm 
Laut  scheltend  aus,  indem  die  Hiebe  flogen; 
So  bist  du  denn  zum  Ackern  selbst  zu  schlimm, 
Mich  hat  ein  Schelm  mit  dir  betrogen. 

Indem  er  noch  in  seines  Zornes  Wut 
Die  Peitsche  schwingt,  kommt  flink  und  wohlgemut 
Ein  lustiger  Gesell  die  Strasse  hergezogen. 
Die  Zither  klingt  in  seiner  leichten  Hand, 
Und  durch  den  blonden  Schmuck  der  Haare 
Schlingt  zierlich  sich  ein  goldnes  Band. 
Wohin,  Freund,  mit  dem  wunderlichen  Paare? 
Ruft  er  den  Bau'r  von  weitem  an. 
Der  Vogel  und  der  Ochs  an  einem  Seile, 
Ich  bitte  dich,  welch  ein  Gepann  ! 
Willst  du  auf  eine  kleine  Weile 
Dein  Pferd  zur  Probe  mir  vertraun? 
Gib  acht,  du  sollst  dein  Wunder  schaun. 

Der  Hippogryph  wird  ausgespannt, 
Und  lachelnd  schwingt  sich  ihm  der  Jiingling  auf  den  Riicken. 
Kaum  fuhlt  das  Tier  des  Meisters  sichre  Hand, 
So  knirscht  es  in  des  Zugels  Band 

Und  steigt,  und  Blitze  spruhn  aus  den  beseelten  Blicken. 
Nicht  mehr  das  vor'ge  Wesen,  konigiich, 
Ein  Geist,  ein  Gott,  erhebt  es  sich, 
Entrollt  mit  einem  Mai  in  Sturmes  Wehen 


Schiller's  poetry.  69 

Der  Schwingen  Pracht,  schiesst  brausend  himmelan, 
Und  eh  der  Blick  ihm  folgen  kann, 
Entschwebt  es  zu  den  blauen  Hohen.] 

DIVISION  OF  THE  EARTH. 

"  'Here,  take  the  world !'  cried  Jove  from  out  his  heaven 
To  mortals — 'Be  you  of  this  earth  the  heirs ; 
Free  to  your  use  the  heritage  is  given ; 
Fraternally  divide  the  shares.' 

"Then  every  hand  stretched  eager  in  its  greed, 
And  busy  was  the  work  with  young  and  old ; 
The  tiller  settled  upon  glebe  and  mead. 

The  hunter  chased  through  wood  and  wold. 

"The  merchant  grip'd  the  store  and  locked  the  ware — 
The  abbot  chose  the  juices  of  the  vine — 
The  king  barr'd  up  the  bridge  and  thoroughfare, 
And  said,  'The  tithes  and  tolls  are  mine!' 

"And  when  the  earth  was  thus  divided,  came 
Too  late  the  poet  from  afar,  to  see 
That  all  had  proffer'd  and  had  seiz'd  their  claim — 
'And  is  there  naught,'  he  cried,  'for  me? 

"    'Shall  I,  thy  truest  son,  be  yet  of  all 
Thy  children  portionless  alone?' 
Thus  went  his  cry,  and  Jove  beheld  him  fall 
A  suppliant  before  his  throne. 

"  'If  in  the  land  of  dreams  thou  wert  abiding,' 

Answered  the  God,  'why  murmurest  thou  at  me? 
Where  wast  thou  then,  when  earth  they  were  dividing?' 
T  was,'  the  poet  said,  'with  thee ! 

"  'Upon  thy  glorious  aspect  dwelt  my  sight — 
The  harmony  of  heaven  enthralled  mine  ear; 
Pardon  the  soul  that,  with  thy  dazzling  light 
Enraptured,  lost  its  portion  here !' 

"'What's  to  be  done?'  said  Zeus,  'The  world  is  Riven, 
Mart,  chase,  and  harvest  are  no  longer  free  ; 
But  if  thou  wilt  abide  with  me  in  heaven, 

Whene'er  thou  com"st.  'twill  open  be  to  thee!"1 
(Translation  after  Bulwer-Lytton,  except   the  la  which   is   from 

Bo  wring.) 

Die  Teilung  der  Erde. 

[Nehmt  bin  die  Welt  !  riff  Zeus  von  seinefl  Hohen 
Den  Menschen  zu  ;  nehmt,  sie  soil  euei 


JO  FRIEDRICH   SCHILLER. 

Euch  schenk'  ich  sie  zum  Erb'  und  ew'gen  Lehen ; 
Doch  teilt  euch  briiderlich  darein. 

Da  eilt',  was  Hande  hat,  sich  einzurichten, 
Es  regte  sich  geschaftig  jung  und  alt. 

Der  Ackermann  griff  nach  des  Feldes  Friichten, 
Der  Junker  birschte  durch  den  Wald. 

Der  Kaufmann  nimmt,  was  seine  Speicher  fassen, 
Der  Abt  wahlt  sich  den  edeln  Firnewein, 

Der  Konig  sperrt'  die  Briicken  und  die  Strassen 
Und  sprach :  der  Zehente  ist  mein. 

Ganz  spat,  nachdem  die  Teilung  langst  geschehen, 
Naht  der  Poet,  er  kam  aus  weiter  Fern' ; 

Ach,  da  war  iiberall  nic.hts  mehr  zu  sehen, 
Und  alles  hatte  seinen  Herrn. 

Weh  mir!  so  soil  denn  ich  allein  von  alien 
Vergessen  sein,  ich,  dein  getreuster  Sohn? 

So  liess  er  laut  der  Klage  Ruf  erschallen 
Und  warf  sich  hin  vor  Jovis  Thron. 

Wenn  du  im  Land  der  Traume  dich  verweilet, 
Versetzt  der  Gott,  so  hadre  nicht  mit  mir. 

Wo  warst  du  denn,  als  man  die  Welt  geteilet? 
Ich  war,  sprach  der  Poet,  bei  dir. 

Mein  Auge  hing  an  deinem  Angesichte, 
An  deines  Himmels  Harmonie  mein  Ohr; 

Yerzeih  dem  Geiste,  der,  von  deinem  Lichte 
Berauscht,  das  Irdische  verlor ! 

Was  thun?  spricht  Zeus, — die  Welt  ist  weggegeben, 
Der  Herbst,  die  Jagd,  der  Markt  ist  nicht  mehr  mein. 

Willst  du  in  meinem  Himmel  mit  mir  leben, 
So  oft  du  kommst,  er  soil  dir  offen  sein.] 


HYMN  TO  JOY. 

'Joy  divine,  fair  flame  immortal. 

Daughter  of  Elysium, 
Mad  with  rapture,  to  the  portal 

Of  thy  holy  fane  we  come ! 
Fashion's  laws,  indeed,  may  sever, 

But  thy  magic  joins  again; 
All  mankind  are  brethren  ever 

'Neath  thy  mild  and  gentle  reign. 


SCHILLER  S  POETRY.  /I 

CHORUS. 
Welcome,  all  ye  myriad  creatures ! 

Brethren,  take  the  kiss  of  love ! 

Yes,  the  starry  realm  above 
Smile  a  father's  kindly  features ! 

'Joy,  in  Nature's  wide  dominion, 

Mainspring  of  the  whole  is  found ; 
And  'tis  Joy  that  moves  the  pinion, 

When  the  wheel  of  time  goes  round; 
From  the  bud  she  lures  the  flower — 

Suns  from  out  their  orbs  of  light ; 
Distant  spheres  obey  her  power, 

Far  beyond  all  mortal  sight. 

CHORUS. 

As  through  Heaven's  expanse  so  glorious 

In  their  orbits  suns  roll  on, 

Brethren,  thus  your  proud  race  run, 
Glad  as  warriors  all-victorious! 

"To  the  Gods  we  ne'er  can  render 

Praise  for  every  good  they  grant ; 
Let  us,  with  devotion  tender, 

Minister  to  grief  and  want. 
Quench'd  be  hate  and  wrath  for  ever, 

Pardon'd  be  our  mortal  foe — 
May  our  tears  upbraid  him  never, 

No  repentance  bring  him  low ! 

CHORUS. 

Sense  of  wrongs  must  not  be  treasured — 

Brethren,  live  in  perfect  love  ! 

In  the  starry  realms  above, 
God  will  mete  as  we  have  measured. 

"Joy  within  the  goblet  flushes, 

For  the  golden  nectar,  wine, 
Ev'ry  fierce  emotion  hushes, — 

Fills  the  breast  with  fire  divine. 
Brethren,  thus  in  rapture  meeting, 

Send  ye  round  the  brimming  cup,— 
Yonder  kindly  Spirit  greeting, 

While  the  foam  to  Heaven  mounts  up! 

CHORUS. 

Seraphs  praise  bis  power  and  love, 

Him  stars  worship  as  they  roll, 

To  the  spirit  drain  the  bowl — 
Yonder  starry  realms  above! 


72  FRIEDRICH   SCHILLER. 

"Safety  from  tyrant's  power ! 

Mercy  e'en  to  traitors  base! 
Hope  in  life's  last  solemn  hour! 

Pardon  when  before  God's  face ! 
Eke  to  those  in  slumber  lulled — 

To  the  dead,  now  drain  your  cup ! 
May  our  sins  be  all  anulled! 

Hell  itself  be  swallowed  up ! 

CHORUS. 

When  the  golden  bowl  is  broken, 
Gentle  sleep  within  the  tomb! 
Brethren,  may  a  gracious  doom 

By  the  Judge  of  Man  be  spoken !" 

(Translation  after  Bowring.) 

An  die  Freud c. 

[Freude,  schemer  Gotterfunken, 

Tochter  aus  Elysium, 
Wir  betreten  feuertrunken, 

Himmlische,  dein  Heiligtum. 
Deine  Zauber  binden  wieder, 

Was  die  Mode  streng  geteilt ; 
Alle  Menschen  werden  Briider. 

Wo  dein  sanfter  Fliigel  weilt. 

CHOR. 

Seid  umschlungen,  Millionen! 

Diesen  Kuss  der  ganzen  Welt ! 

Briider — iiberm  Sternenzelt 
Muss  ein  lieber  Vater  wohnen. 

Freude  heisst  die  starke  Feder 

In  der  ewigen  Natur. 
Freude,  Freude  treibt  die  Rader 

In  der  grossen  Weltenuhr. 
Blumen  lockt  sie  aus  den  Keimen, 

Sonnen  aus  dem  Firmament, 
Spharen  rollt  sie  in  den  Raumen, 

Die  des  Sehers  Rohr  nicht  kennt. 

CHOR. 

Froh,  wie  seine  Sonnen  fliegen 

Durch  des  Himmels  pracht'gen  Plan, 
Wandelt,  Briider,  er.re  Balm, 

Freudig,  wie  ein  Held  zum  Siegen. 

Gottern  kann  man  nicht  vergelten; 

Schorl  ist's  ihnen  gleich  zu  sein. 
Gram  und  Armut  soil  sich  melden, 

Mit  den  Frohen  sich  erfreun. 


SCHILLER'S  POETKY.  7} 

Groll  und  Rache  sei  vergessen, 

Unserm  Todfeind  sei  verziehn. 
Keine  Thrane  soil  ihn  pressen, 

Keine  Reuc  nage  ihn. 

CHOR. 

Unser  Schuldbuch  sei  vernichtet ! 

Ausgesohnt  die  ganze  Welt! 

Briider — uberm  Sternenzelt 
Richtet  Gott  wie  wir  gerichtet. 

Freude  sprudelt  in  Pokalen. 

In  der  Traube  goldnem  Blut 
Trinken  Sanftmut  Kannibaien, 

Die  Verzweiflung  Heldenmut 

Briider,  fliegt  von  euren  Sitzen, 

Wenn  der  voile  Romer  kreist. 
Lasst  den  Schaum  zum  Himmel  spritzen  : 

Dieses  Glas  dem  guten  Geist ! 

CHOR. 

Den  der  Sterne  Wirbel  loben. 

Den  des  Seraphs  Hymne  preist, 

Dieses  Glas  dem  guten  Geist 
Ueberm  Sternenzelt  dort  oben  ! 

Rettung  von  Tyrannenketten, 

Grossmut  audi  dem  Bosewicht, 
Hoffnung  auf  den  Sterbebetten, 

Gnade  auf  dem  Hochgericbt ! 
Auch  die  Todten  sollen  leben ! 

Briider,  trinkt  und  stimmet  ein : 
Allen  Sundern  soil  vergeben, 

Und  die  Holle  nicht  mehr  sein! 

CHOR. 

Eine  heitre  Abschiedsstunde ! 

Siissen  Schlaf  im  Leichentuch  ! 

Briider — einen  sanften  Sprucb 
Aus  des  Todtenricbters  Munde!] 


CAVALRY  SONG. 
(From  tbe  last  scene  of  "Wallenstein's  Camp") 

"Huzza!  O  my  comrades!  to  horse!  to  horse! 

In  the  field  still  can  freedom  be  wrested, 
For  there  in  the  battle  is  proved  manhood's  force 

In  the  field  our  hearts  will  be  tested  ! 
None  can  another's  place  supply, 
Each  standeth  alone— on  himself  must  rely. 


74  FRIEDRICH  SCHILLER. 

"Now  freedom  appears  from  the  world  to  have  flown, 
None  but  lords  and  their  vassals  one  traces ; 
While  falsehood  and  cunning  are  ruling  alone 

O'er  the  living  cowardly  races. 
The  man  who  can  look  upon  death  without  fear — 
The  soldier,- — is  now  the  sole  freeman  left  here. 

"The  cares  of  this  life,  he  casts  them  away, 
Untroubled  by  fear  or  by  sorrow ; 
He  rides  to  his  fate  with  a  countenance  gay, 

And  finds  it  to-day  or  to-morrow ; 
And  if  'tis  to-morrow,  to-day  we'll  employ 
To  drink  full  deep  of  the  goblet  of  joy. 

"The  skies  o'er  him  shower  his  lot  filled  with  mirth. 
He  gains,  without  toil,  its  full  measure; 
The  peasant,  who  grubs  in  the  womb  of  the  earth, 

Believes  that  he'll  find  there  the  treasure. 
Through  lifetime  he  shovels  and  digs  like  a  slave, 
And  digs — till  at  length  he  has  dug  his  own  grave. 

"The  horseman,  as  well  as  his  swift-footed  beast, 
Are  guests  by  whom  all  are  affrighted. 
When  glimmer  the  lamps  at  the  wedding  feast, 

In  the  banquet  he  joins  uninvited; 
He  woos  not  long,  and  with  gold  he  ne'er  buys, 
But  carries  by  storm  love's  blissful  prize. 

"Why  weepest,  my  maiden?     Why  grievest  thou  so? 

Let  me  hence,  let  me  hence,  girl,  I  pray  thee ! 
The  soldier  on  earth  no  sure  quarters  can  know ; 

With  constancy  never  repay  thee. 
Fate  hurries  him  onward  with  fury  blind, 
Nor  peace  nor  rest  is  it  his  to  find. 

"Away  then,  my  comrades,  our  chargers  let's  mount ! 

Our  hearts  in  the  battle  bound  lightly! 
Youth's  foam  effervesces  in  life's  bubbling  fount. 

Away !  while  the  spirit  glows  brightly ! 
Unless  you  have  courage  your  life  to  stake, 
Of  life's  true  worth  you  will  ne'er  partake'." 

(Translation  after  Bowring.) 

Reiterlied. 

[Wohlauf,  Kameraden,  aufs  Pferd,  aufs  Pferd  ! 

Ins  Feld,  in  die  Freiheit  gezogen ! 
Im  Felde,  da  ist  der  Mann  noch  was  wert, 

Da  wird  das  Herz  noch  gewogen, 


SCHILLER  S  POETRY.  75 

Da  tritt  kein  andrer  fiir  ihn  ein, 

Auf  sich  selber  steht  er  da  ganz  allein. 

Aus  der  Welt  die  Freiheit  verschwunden  ist, 

Man  sieht  nur  Herren  und  Knechte ; 
Die  Falschheit  herrschet,  die  Hinterlist 

Bei  dem  feigen  Menschengeschlechte. 
Der  dem  Tod  ins  Angesicht  schauen  kann, 
Der  Soldat  allein  ist  der  freie  Mann ! 

Des  Lebens  Aengsten,  er  wirft  sie  weg, 

Hat  nicht  mehr  zu  furchten,  zu  sorgen ; 
Er  reitet  dem  Schicksal  entgegen  keck, 

Trifft's  heute  nicht,  trifrt  es  doch  morgen, 
Und  trifrt  es  morgen,  so  lasset  uns  heut 
Noch  schliirfen  die  Neige  der  kostlichen  Zeit. 

Von  dem  Himmel  fallt  ihm  sein  lustig  Los, 

Braucht's  nicht  mit  Mutt'  zu  erstreben. 
Der  Frohner,  der  sucht  in  der  Erde  Schoss, 

Da  mcint  er  den  Schatz  zu  erheben. 
Er  grabt  und  schaufelt,  so  lang  er  lei  it, 
Und  grabt  bis  er  endlich  sein  Grab  sich  grabt. 

Der  Reiter  und  sein  geschwindes  Ross, 

Sie  sind  gefiirchtete  Gaste. 
Es  flimmern  die  Lampen  im  Hochzeitschloss, 

Ungeladen  kommt  er  zum  Feste, 
Er  wirbt  nicht  lange,  er  zeiget  nicht  Gold, 
Im  Sturm  erringt  er  den  Minnesold. 

Warurn  weint  die  Dim'  und  zergramt  sich  schier? 

Lass  fahren  dahin,  lass  fahren  ! 
Er  hat  auf  Erden  kein  bleibend  Quartier, 

Kann  treue  Lieb  nicht  bewahren. 
Das  rasche  Schicksal,  es  treibt  ihn  fort, 
Seine  Rube  lasst  er  an  keinem  Ort. 

Drum  frisch,  Kameraden,  den  Rappen  gezaumt, 

Die  Brust  im  Gefechte  geliiftet! 
Die  Jugend  brauset,  das  Leben  schaumt, 

Frisch  auf,  eh  der  Geist  noch  verduftet! 
Und  setzet  ihr  nicht  das  Leben  ein, 
Nie  wird  etich  das  Leben  gewonnen  sein.] 

THE  ALPINE  HUNTER. 

'"Wilt  thou  not  be  lambkins  heeding? 
Innocent  and  gentle,  they 
Meekly  on  sweet  herbs  are  feeding, 


j6  FRIEDRICH   SCHILLER. 

And  beside  the  brook  they  play.' 
'Mother  keep  me  not  at  home. 
Let  me  as  a  hunter  roam !' 

"  'Wilt  thou  not,  thy  herds  assembling, 
Lure  with  lively  horn  along? — 
Sweet  their  clear  bells  tinkle  trembling, 
Sweet  the  echoing  woods  among !' 
'Mother,  mother,  let  me  go, 
O'er  the  wilds  to  chase  the  roe.' 

"  'Wilt  thou  nurture  not  the  flowers, 
Tend  them  like  my  own  dear  child? 
Dark  and  drear  the  mountain  lowers, 
Wild  is  nature  on  the  wild!' 
'Leave  the  flowers  in  peace  to  blow. 
Mother,  mother,  let  me  go !' 

"Forth  the  hunter  bounds  unheeding, 
On  his  hardy  footsteps  press ; 
Hot  and  eager,  blindly  speeding 
To  the  mountain's  last  recess. 
Swift  before  him,  as  the  wind. 
Panting,  trembling,  flies  the  hind. 

"Up  the  ribbed  crag-tops  driven, 
Up  she  clambers,  steep  on  steep; 
O'er  the  rocks  asunder  riven 
Springs  her  dizzy,  daring  leap: 
Still  unwearied,  with  the  bow 
Of  death,  behind  her  flies  the  foe. 

"On  the  peak  that  rudely,  drearly 
Jags  the  summit,  bleak  and  hoar, 
Where  the  rocks,  descending  sheerly, 
Leave  to  flight  no  path  before ; 
There  she  halts  at  last,  to  find 
Chasms  beneath— the  foe  behind! 

"To  the  hard  man— dumb-lamenting, 
Turns  her  look  of  pleading  woe ; 
Turns  in  vain— the  Unrelenting 
Meets  the  look — and  bends  the  bow, — 
Yawn'd  the  rock;  from  his  abode 
Th'  Ancient  of  the  mountain  strode ; 

"And  his  godlike  hand  extending, 
To  protect  her  from  the  foe, 
'Wherefore  death  and  slaughter  sending, 
Bringst  thou  my  realm  this  woe? 


SCHILLER  S  POETRY.  77 

Shall  my  herds  before  thee  fall? 
Room  there  is  on  earth  for  all !" 

(Translation  alter  Bulwer-Lytton.) 

Der  Alpenj'dger. 

[Willst  du  nicht  das  Lammlein  hiiten? 

Lammlein  ist  so  fromm  und  sanft, 
Nahrt  sich  von  des  Grases  Bliiten, 

Spielend  an  des  Baches  Ranft. 
"Mutter,  Mutter,  lass  mich  gehen, 
Jagen  nach  des  Berges  Hohen !" 

Willst  du  nicht  die  Herde  locken? 

Mit  des  Homes  munterm  Klang? 
Lieblich  tont  der  Schall  der  Glocken 

In  des  Waldes  Lustgesang. 
"Mutter,  Mutter,  lass  mich  gehen, 
Schweifen  auf  den  wilden  Hohen  !" 

Willst  du  nicht  der  Bliimlein  warten, 

Die  im  Beete  freundlich  stehn  ? 
Draussen  ladet  dich  kein  Garten; 

Wild  ist's  auf  den  wilden  Hohn! 
"Lass  die  Bliimlein,  lass  sie  bliihen  ! 
Mutter,  Mutter,  lass  mich  ziehen!" 

Und  der  Knabe  ging  zu  jagen. 

Und  es  treibt  und  reisst  ihn  fort, 
Rastlos  fort  mit  blindem  Wagen, 

An  des  Berges  finstern  Ort; 
Vor  ihm  her  mit  Windesschnelle 
Flieht  die  zitternde  Gazelle. 

Auf  der  Felsen  nackte  Rippen 

Klettert  sie  mit  leichtem  Schwung, 
Durch  den  Riss  gespaltner  Klippen 

Triigt  sie  der  gewagte  Sprung; 
Aber  hinter  ihr  verwogen 
Folgt  er  mit  dem  Todesbogen. 

Jetzo  auf  den  schroffen  Zinken 

Hangt  sie,  auf  dem  hochsten  ' 
Wo  die  Felsen  jah  versinken 

Und  verschwunden  ist  der  Pfad. 
Unter  sich  die  steile  I  fohe, 
Hinter  sich  des  F(  indes  Nahe. 

Mit  des  Jammers  stummen  Blicken 

Fleht  sie  zu  dem  liarten  Mann. 


/8  FRIEDRICH   SCHILLER. 

Fleht  umsonst,  derm  loszudriicken 

Legt  er  schon  den  Bogen  an  ; 
Plotzlich  aus  der  Felsenspalte 
Tritt  der  Geist,  der  Bergesalte. 

Und  mit  seinen  Gotterhanden 
Schiitzt  er  das  gequalte  Tier. 

"Musst  du  Tod  und  Jammer  senden, 
Ruft  er,  "bis  herauf  zu  mir? 

Raum  fiir  alle  hat  die  Erde ; 

Was  verfolgst  du  meine  Herde?"] 


PROVERBS  OF  CONFUCIUS. 

TIME. 

"Threefold  is  the  march  of  Time: 
While  the  future  slow  advances. 
Like  a  dart  the  present  glances, 
Changeless  stands  the  past  sublime. 

(Time  as  Future.) 
"No   impatience   e'er  can   speed  him 
On  his  course  if  he  delay. 

(Time  as  Present.) 
"No.  alarm,  no  doubts  impede  him 
If  he  keep  his  onward  way. 

(Time  as  Past.) 
"No  remorse,  no  incantations 
Alter  aught  in  his  fixations. 

(Application.) 
"Wouldst  thou  wisely  and  with  pleasure, 
Pass  the  days  of  life's  short  measure, 
From  the  slow  one  counsel  take. 
But  a  tool  of  him  ne'er  make; 
Ne'er  as  friend  the  swift  one  know, 
Nor  the  constant  one  as  foe  I" 

SPACE. 

'Threefold  is  the  form  of  Space  : 
Length,  with  ever  restless  motion; 
Seeks  eternity's  wide  ocean; 
Breadth  with  boundless  sway  extends ; 
Depth  to  unknown  realms  descends. 

(  Application.) 
All  types  to  thee  are  given  : 
Thou  must  onward  strive  for  heaven, 
Never  still  or  weary  be 
Wouldst  thou  perfect  glory  see; 
Far  must  thy  researches  go 


SCHILLER  S  POETRY. 

Wouldst  thou  learn  the  world  to  know  ; 
Thou  must  tempt  the  dark  abyss 
Wouldst  thou  life's  deep  meaning  wis. 

"Nought  but  firmness  gains  the  prize.— 
Nought  but  fulness  makes  us  wise, — 
Buried  deep,  truth  ever  lies!" 

(Translation  by  Bowl  ii: 

Spruche  des  Konfucius. 

i. 

[Dreifach  ist  der  Schritt  der  Zeit: 
Zogernd  kommt  die  Zukuuft  hergezogen, 
Pfeilschnell  ist  das  Jezt  entflogen, 
Ewig  still  steht  die  Vergangenheit. 

Keine  Ungeduld  befliigelt 
Ihren  Schritt,  wenn  sie  verweilt. 
Keine  Furcht,  kein  Zweifeln  zugelt 
Ihren  Lauf,  wenn  sie  enteilt. 
Keine  Reu,  kein  Zaubersegen 
Kami  die  stehende  bewegen. 

Mochtest  du  begliickt  und  weisc 
Endigen  des  Lebens  Reise, 
Nimm  die  zogernde  zum  Rat, 
Nicht  zum  Werkzeug  deiner  That. 
Wahle  nicht  die  fliehende  zum  Freund, 
Nicht  die  bleibende  zum  Feind. 


Dreifach  ist  des  Raumes  Mass: 
Rastlos  fort  ohn'  Unterlass 
Strebt  die  Lange ;  fort  ins  Weite 
Endlos  giesset  isch  die  Breite; 
Grundlos  senkt  die  Tiefe  sich. 

Dir  ein  Bild  sind  sic  gegeben  : 
Rastlos  vorwarts  musst  du  -n  i  !  ■ 
Nie  ermiidet  stille  stehn, 
Willst  du  die  Vollendung  sehn  ; 
Musst  ins  Breite  dich  enl  falten, 
Soil  sich  dir  die  Well  ge  talten  : 
|-i  die  Tiefe  mu  -  I  du  steigen, 
Soil  sich  dir  das  Wesen  zeigen. 
Nur  Beharrung  fiihrt  zum  Ziel, 
'  iur  die  Fiille  fiihrl  zur  Klarheit, 
( ':.,[  im  Abgrund  wohnl   d 


79 


8o  FRIEDRICH   SCHILLER. 


LIGHT  AND  WARMTH. 

'The  world,  a  man  of  noble  mind 

With  glad  reliance  enters ; 
Around  him  spread,  he  hopes  to  find 

What  in  his  bosom  centers ; 
And  to  truth's  cause,  with  ardor  warm, 
He  dedicates  his  trusty  arm. 

'But  that  the  world  is  mean,  ere  long- 
Experience  shows  him  ever; 
Himself  to  guard  amid  the  throng 

Is  now  his  sole  endeavor. 
His  heart,  in  calm  and  proud  repose, 
Soon  e'en  to  love  begins  to  close. 

'The  rays  of  truth,  though  light-bestowing, 

Not  always  warmth  impart ; 
Blest  he  who  gains  the  boon  of  knowing 

Nor  buys  it  with  his  heart ! 
So  thou  shouldst  worldling's  ken  unite 
To  the  idealist's  vision  bright." 

(Translation  after  Bowring.) 


Licht  uiid  Warme. 

[Der  bessre  Mensch  tritt  in  die  Welt 

Mit  frohlichem  Vertrauen ; 
Er  glaubt,  was  ihm  die  Seele  schwellt, 

Audi  ausser  sich  zu  schauen 
Und  weiht,  von  edlem  Eifer  warm, 
1  >er  Wahrheit  seinen  treuen  Arm. 

Doch  alles  ist  so  klein,  so  eng; 

Hat  er  es  erst  erfahren, 
1  )a  sucht  er  in  dem  Weltgedrang 

Sich  selbst  nur  zu  bewahren  ; 
Das  Herz,  in  kalter,  stolzer  Ruh, 
Schliesst  endlich  sich  der  Liebe  zu. 

Sie  gehen,  ach  !  nicht  immer  Glut. 

Der  Wahrheit  helle  Strahlen. 
Wohl  Denen,  die  des  Wissens  Gut 

Micht  nut  dem  Herzen  zahlen. 
Drum  paart,  zu  eurem  schonsten  Glitck, 
Mit  Sch warmers  Ernst  des  Weltmanns  Blicl 


SCHILLER  S  POETRY 


81 


THE  LAY  OF  THE  BELL. 

During  1797  and  1798,  Schiller  wrote  his  famous  poem  "The 
Lay  of  the  Bell,"  which  is  commonly  regarded  as  the  crown  of  his 
lyric  poetry.     In  1788,  in  his  frequent  trips  to  Rudolstadt,  he  had 


"Pull  boys,  pull  boys,  raise! 
See,  she  moves,  she  sways ! 
O'er  our  town  let  gladness  reign, 
Peace,  be  this  her  first  refrain!" 


repeatedly  visited  a  bell  foundry,  and  on  these  occasions  had  stud- 
ied in  detail  the  process  of  casting  bells.  The  idea  came  to  him  to 
represent  the  entirety  of  human  destiny  in  a  description  of  this 
typical  industry  as  it  is  woven  into  man's  daily  work.  The  poet 
introduces  the  master  of  the  foundry  addressing  his  journeymen  and 


82 


FRIEDRICH   SCHILLER. 


apprentices  on  the  significance  of  their  labor,  and  every  transaction 
leads  him  to  see  in  it  some  suggestion  of  a  similar  occurrence  in 
man's  life.  Thus  Schiller  unrolls  before  our  eyes  the  birth  of  the 
child,  the  home  in  which  the  mother  rules,  the  father's  industry, 


"The  proud  boy  bids  the  girl  adieu." 

the  danger  of  fire,  the  romance  of  love,  marriage,  and  death,  the 
horrors  of  revolution,  and  the  peaceful  development  of  civilization 
under  the  united  efforts  of  all  members  of  society.     So  he  concludes 


SCHILLER S   POETRY 


his  poem  by  making  the  bell  ring  out  victorious  notes  of  joy  and 
peace. 

To  Americans  "The  Lay  of  the  Bell"  is  especially  noteworthy 
because   it   suggested   to   Longfellow  the  plan   of  his   poem   "The 


"Then  as  a  stranger  homeward  lues." 

Building  of  the  Ship."     The  meter  changes  frequently,  and  each 
change  is  quite  effective  in  expressing  the  changed  situation. 

"The  Lay  of  the  Bell"  has  been  a  household  poem  in  German 


84  FRIEDRICH  SCHILLER. 

homes,  and  great  artists  have  illustrated  its  incidents  in  pictures 
which  are  known  to  Germans  the  world  over.  Especially  familiar 
are  two  paintings  of  Midler,  which  represent  the  scenes  so  impres- 
sively described  by  Schiller  when  the  boy  first  leaves  his  parents' 
house,  and  later  when  he  returns  almost  a  stranger  and  again 
meets  the  maiden  whom  he  left  behind  as  a  girl.  Our  rendering 
follows  mainly  Baskerville's  translation  : 

"Firmly  bound  the  mould  of  clay- 
In  its  dungeon-walls  doth  stand. 
Born  shall  be  the  hell  to-day! 
Comrades,  up!  now  be  at  hand! 
From  the  brows  of  all 
Must  the  sweat-drops  fall. 
Ere  in  his  work  the  master  live ; 
The  blessing  God  alone  can  give. 

"To  what  we  earnestly  prepare 
Now  may  an  earnest  word  be  said; 
When  good  discourse  our  labors  share 
Then  merrily  the  work  is  sped. 
Let  us  consider  then  with  zeal 
What  feeble  strength  can  do  by  thought ; 
Contempt  for  him  we  e'er  must  feel 
Who  planned  not  what  his  hands  have  wrought. 
'Tis  this  adorns  the  human  race, 
For  this  to  man  was  reason  given, 
That  he  within  his  heart  may  trace 
The  works  that  by  his  hands  have  thriven. 

"Wood  cut  from  the  pine-tree  take, 
But  well  seasoned  let  it  be, 
Through  the  flue  the  flames  thus  break 
To  the  cauldron's  molten  sea. 

Boils  the  copper  within, 

Quick,  bring  hither  the  tin ! 
That  the  bell's  tough  metal  may 
Smoothly  flow  in  wonted  way ! 

"What  deeply  in  earth's  hidden  cell 
The  hand  with  fire's  assistance  speeds. 
Will  in  the  steeple's  belfry  dwell 
And  loudly  witness  of  our  deeds. 
In  many  an  ear  its  thrilling  tale 
'Twill  pour,  nor  heed  the  flight  of  Time, 
'Twill  with  the  child  of  sorrow  wail, 
And  join  Devotion's  choral  chime. 
Whate'er  unto  the  earthborn  crowd 
The  frown  or  smile  of  Fortune  bring, 


schiller's  poetry.  s  = 

The  metal  tongue  proclaims  it  loud, 
While  far  those  cheering  accents  ring. 

"See  the  silver  bubbles  glow ! 
Now  the  molten  billows  swell. 
Potash  in  the  furnace  throw, 
For  it  speeds  the  casting  well. 

And  from  frothing  free 

Must  the  mixture  be 
That  the  bell's  metallic  voice 
Every  hearer's  heart  rejoice. 

'With  festive  joyous  accents  rife 
It  greets  the  well  beloved  child, 
Launched  on  his  first  career  of  life 
In  slumber's  arm  so  sweet  and  mild ; 
In  Time's  dark  womb  for  him  reposes 
Life's  thorny  couch,  life's  bed  of  roses ; 
A  mother's  love  its  guardian  wing 
Spreads  o'er  his  golden  days  of  spring. — 
The  years  fly  like  the  winged  shaft. 
The  proud  boy  bids  the  girl  adieu; 
Out  into  life's  wild  storm  he  flies, 
A  pilgrim,  roams  the  wide  world  through, 
Then  as  a  stranger  homeward  hies. 
And  lo,  as  some  sweet  vision  breaks 
Out  from  its  native  morning  skies, 
With  rosy  blush  on  downcast  cheeks, 
The  maiden  stands  before  his  eyes. 
A  nameless  yearning  now  appears 
And  fills  his  heart ;  alone  he  strays, 
His  eyes  are  ever  moist  with  tears, 
He  shuns  his  brothers'  noisy  plays; 
Her  steps  he  blushingly  pursues, 
And  by  her  greeting  is  made  blest, 
Gathers  the  flowers  of  fairest  hues, 
With  which  to  deck  his  true  love's  breast. 
Oh,  tender  yearning,  blissful  hope, 
Thou  golden  time  of  love's  young  day ! 
Heav'n  seems  before  the  eye  to  ope, 
The  heart  in  rapture  melts  away. 
Oh,  may  it  ever  verdant  prove. 
That  radiant  time  of  youthful  love! 

"Lo!  the  pipes  already  brown! 
I  will  dip  this  rod  therein, 
Doth  a  glaze  the  surface  crown, 
We  the  casting  may  begin. 

Quick  !  amid  the  glow, 

Test  the  mixture's  How! 


FRIEDRICH   SCHILLER. 

See  if,  with  a  goodly  sign, 
Soft  and  brittle  well  combine. 

'Where  gentleness  with  strength  we  find, 

The  tender  with  the  stern  combined, 

There  harmony  is  sweet  and  strong. 

Then  prove,  e'er  wedlock's  wreath  be  twined 

If  heart  to  heart  its  fetters  bind ! 

Illusion's  brief,  repentance  long. 

Sweet  on  bridal  brow  is  clinging 

Myrtle  wreath  of  festive  green, 

When  the  mellow  church  bell's  ringing 

Bids  us  to  the  festive  scene. 

Ah !  life's  sweetest  festival 

Ends  the  May  of  life  anon, 

With  the  girdle,  with  the  veil, 

Is  the  fond  illusion  gone. 

The  passions  soon  fly, 

But  love  must  remain  ; 

The  blossoms  soon  die, 

Fruit  conies  in  their  train. 

The  husband  must  fight, 

'Mid  struggles  and  strife, 

The  battle  of  life; 

Must  plant  and  create, 

Watch,  snare,  and  debate, 

Must  venture  and  stake 

His  fortune  to  make. 

Then  boundless  in  torrents  comes  pouring  the  gift, 

The  garners  o'erflow  with  the  costliest  thrift, 

The  store-rooms  increase,  and  the  mansion  expands. 

Within  it  reigns 

The  prudent  wife, 

The  tender  mother, 

In  wisdom's  ways 

Her  house  she  sways, 

Instructing  the  girls, 

Controlling  the  boys, 

With  diligent  hands 

She  works  and  commands, 

Increases  the  gains 

And  order  maintains ; 

With  treasures  the  sweet  smelling  wardrobe  she  stores, 

And  busily  over  the  spinning  wheel  pores, 

She  hoards  in  the  bright  polished  presses  till  full 

The  snowy  white  linen,  the  shimmering  wool, 

The  bright  and  the  showy  to  good  she  disposes, 

And  never  reposes. 

'Now  the  sire  with  joyful  mien, 
From  the  house's  lofty  gable, 


Schiller's  poetry.  87 

Gazes  on  the  prosperous  scene ; 
Sees  the  beams  around  him  soar, 
And  the  barn's  abundant  store, 
Garners  blest  by  Plenty's  horn, 
And  the  waving  sea  of  corn. 
Thus  he  fondly  prides  himself: 
'Firm  and  strong  as  earth  itself, 
'Gainst  misfortune's  whelming  shock, 
Stands  the  house,  as  on  a  rock  !' 
But  with  Fate  O !  ne'er  believe 
An  eternal  bond  to  weave, 
Swiftly  on  Misfortune  comes. 

"Now  the  casting  may  begin, 
Jagg'd  the  fracture  is  and  fair. 
But  before  we  run  it  in 
Offer  up  a  pious  prayer ! 
Let  the  plug  now  fly  ! 
May  God's  help  be  nigh  ! 
Smoking  in  the  hollow  cave 
Rushes  forth  the  glowing  wave. 

'How  genial  is  fire's  might, 
When  tamed  and  watched  by  man  aright ! 
Whate'er  he  forms,  or  shapes,  its  source 
He  owes  to  this  celestial  force. 
But  fearful  this  celestial  force 
When,  bursting  forth  in  madden'd  course, 
Unshackled  on  its  path  so  wild, 
It  rushes,  Nature's  free-born  child ! 
Woe,  when  bursting  forth  it  flies, 
Spreading  with  unbridled  ire! 
In  the  busy  street  arise 
Mountain  waves  of  raging  fire ; 
For  the  elements  despise 
Wealth  that  human  hands  acquire. 
From  the  cloud 
Blessings  rush, 
Waters  gush ; 

Where  it  listeth  lightning  flashes, 
Thunder  crashes. 

Hear  ye  that  wail  from  yon  tower's  walls? 
The  tocsin  calls ! 
Red  as  blood 
Glow  the  skies ; 

That  is  not  the  sunlight's  flood! 
Hark !  what  cries 
In  the  street! 
Smoke  clouds  rise! 
Surging  upwards,  higher,  higher! 


88  FRIEDRICH   SCHILLER. 

Through  the  streets  the  pillared  fire 
Rushes  with  the  whirlwind's  ire. 
Like  the  blast  in  furnace  pent 
Glows  the  air,  now  beams  are  rent, 
Windows  rattle,  rafters  creak. 
Mothers  wander,  children  shriek, 
Kine  are  lowing. 
Underneath  the  ruins  glowing; 
Running,  rushing,  coming,  going, 
Night  vies  with  the  daylight's  glowing 
As  the  zealous  chain  expands, 
Through  the  hands, 
Flies  the  bucket;  arching  o'er, 
Streams  the  jet,  the  torrents  pour. 
Then  the  storm,  'mid  howl  and  roar, 
With  the  raging  flames  dispute ; 
Crackling  'mid  the  grain  and  fruit, 
Through  the  garner's  space  they  gleam, 
Seize  the  dry  and  massive  beam, 
And,  as  though  they'd  in  their  flight 
Earth  from  its  foundation  tear, 
Upwards  sweeping  through  the  air, 
Surge  they  to  the  heaven's  height, 
Huge  in  scope! 
Stripped  of  hope, 
Man  submits  as  he  surveys, 
Wond'ring  with  an  idle  gaze, 
What  was  done  by  Heaven's  might. 

"Waste  is  now 
The  place  and  dread, 
Of  wild  storms  the  rugged  bed. 
In  the  hollow  window-cells 
Horror  dwells, 

And  the  clouds  from  Heaven's  sphere 
Downwards  peer. 

"One  fond  look,  the  last, 
'Mid  the  gloom, 
At  the  tomb 

Of  his  wealth  man  turns  to  cast. — 
Then  takes  his  staff,  nor  wails  his  doom. 
What  though  bereft  by  fire's  wrath, 
One  comfort  still  his  heart  may  cheer, 
He  counts  the  forms  to  him  so  dear, 
Lo!  all  are  left  to  cheer  his  path. 

"Being  in  the  earth  received, 
The  mould  the  mingled  metals  fill ; 


schiller's  poetry.  89 

Will  the  work  when  'tis  achieved 
Recompense  our  toil  and  skill? 

If  the  cast  should  fail? 

If  the  mould  be  frail? 
While  we  hope,  e'en  now.  alas, 
Mischief  may  have  come  to  pass! 

:'Unto  the  lap  of  holy  earth 
Do  we  confide  our  work  and  deed, 
The  sower  sows  the  earth  with  seed, 
And  hopes  'twill  give  to  blessings  birth, 
Of  Heaven's  grace  the  grateful  meed. 
More  precious  seeds  in  earth's  dark  womb 
We  sow  with  sorrow's  trembling  hand, 
And  hope  that,  rising  from  the  tomb, 
They'll  blossom  in  that  Better  Land. 

"From  the  steeple 
Tolls  the  bell, 
Deep  and  sadly, 
Death's  last  knell. 

Mournful  dirges  from  the  lofty  dome 
Guide  a  wand'rer  to  his  last  long  home. 

'"Tis  the  wife,  the  well  belov'd  one, 
'Tis,  alas!  the  faithful  mother. 
Whom  the  Prince  of  Shadows  chases 
From  her  husband's  fond  embraces, 
From  his  children  in  their  bloom, 
Born  of  her,  those  lov'd  ones,  whom 
Oft  she  to  her  faithful  breast 
With  a  mother's  rapture  pressed— 
Now,  alas !  home's  tender  ties 
E'er  are  sever'd  from  each  other; 
In  the  Land  of  Shadow  lies 
Of  that  home  the  gentle  mother ; 
Now  her  faithful  rule  is  gone, 
Watchful,  tender  as  the  dove; 
At  the  widow'd  heart  rules  one 
Who  a  stranger  is  to  love. 

"Till  the  bell  can  cool,  away! 
Let  us  leave  our  toil  awhile! 
As  the  teather'd  songsters  play. 
So  may  each  his  time  beguile. 

When  the  stars  app< 

Free  from  care  and   Eear, 
The  workman  hear    thi     ■   per  bell; 
The  master  cannol  care  dii  pel. 


9°  FRIEDRICH   SCHILLER. 

"Cheerful,  through  the  forest's  gloom, 
Wends  the  wanderer  his  steps 
Back  to  his  dear  cottage  home. 
Bleating  seek  the  sheep  their  fold, 
And  the  herd 

Of  the  broad-brow'd  cattle  come, 
Homewards  lowing, 
The   accustom'd  stables  knowing. 
Through  the  gate 
Reels  the  wain, 
'Neath  the  grain ; 
On  the  sheaves, 

With  their  many-color d  leaves, 
Garlands  lie, 

To  the  dance  the  youthful  reapers 
Joyful  hie. 

Street  and  market  now  are  silent, 
Round  the  taper's  social  flame 
Sit  the  inmates  of  the  house, 
And  the  creaking  town-gates  close. 
Darkness  spreads 
O'er  the  earth  ; 

But  no  honest  burgher  dreads 
Night's  dark  tide, 
Though  it  woo  to  fearful  deeds, 
For  the  law  is  eagle-eyed. 

"Holy  Order,  Heaven's  child, 
Rich  in  blessings,  who,  so  mild. 
Like  to  like  so  blithely  calls, 
Who  hath  raised  the  city's  walls, 
Who  to  quit  his  desert  waste 
Bade  th'  unsocial  savage  haste, 
Who   in  human   dwellings   stealing. 
Taught  mankind  a  softer  feeling. 
And  that  best,  that  dearest  band, 
Wove,  the  love  of  Fatherland. 

"Countless  hands  to  toil  unfold, 
Cheerfully  each  other  aid, 
And  in  vying  zeal,  behold, 
All  their  varied  strength  displayed! 
Man  and  master  join'd  appear 
With  pure  freedom  in  alliance. 
Each,  rejoicing  in  his  sphere, 
To  the  scoffer  bids  defiance. 
Labor  is  the  subject's  crown. 
Blessings  are  his  labor's  guerdon ; 
Honor  to  the  king's  renown  ! 
Honor  to  the  worker's  burden ! 


schiller's  poetry.  91 

'Gentle  peace, 
Concord  blest, 
Never  cease 

Kindly  o'er  our  town  to  rest! 
O  may  ne'er  that  day  appear. 
When  the  savage  hords  of  war 
Devastate  this  silent  vale  ! 
When  the  sky, 

O'er  which  Eve  her  rosy  shades 
Sweetly  throws, 

With  the  wild  and  fearful  glare 
Of  the  burning  city  glows. 

"Break  asunder  now  the  mould. 
For  its  work  is  done  at  last, 
Let  both  heart  and  eye  behold 
Proudly  the  successful  cast! 

Wield  the  hammer,  wield, 

Till  it  split  the  shield! 
Before  the  bell  can  rise  on  high, 
The  mantel  must  in  pieces  fly. 

"The  master,  when  it  seemeth  good, 
With  prudent  hand  may  break  the  mould; 
But  woe,  when  in  a  flaming  flood 
The  glowing  metal  bursts  its  hold! 
Blind,   frantic,  with  the  thunder's  swell, 
It  bursts  its  fractur'd  prison's  side, 
And  as  from  out  the  jaws  of  Hell, 
It  vomits  Ruin's  flaming  tide. 
Where  brutal  strength  insensate  reigns, 
No  pictured  beauty  man  obtains ; 
When  nations  free  themselves  by  force 
Ne'er  prosper  can  their  welfare's  course. 

"Woe,  when  within  the  city's  wall 
The  smould'ring  sparks  in  silence  burn, 
The  people,  bursting  from  their  thrall, 
To  savage  wilfulness  return ! 
Then  peals  the  bell  upon  its  throne, 
And  howls  on  high,  rebellion  calls, 
And,  vow'd  but  to  a  peaceful  tone, 
The  signal  gives  for  savage  brawls. 

"Now  Freedom's  cry  is  heard  around  ; 
The  peaceful  burghers  fly  to  arms, 
The  streets  fill  fast,  the  halls  resound, 
And  murd'rous  bands  spread  dire  alarms. 
Now  like  hyenas  in  their  lair, 
'Mid  horrors  women  jeer  and  jest; 


92  FRIEDRICH  SCHILLER. 

As  with  the  panther's  teeth  they  tear 
The  heart  from  out  their  foeman's  breast. 
Now  all  that's  sacred  men  efface, 
And  break  all  bonds  of  pious  fear, 
Good  now  to  evil  giveth  place, 
And  vice  runs  on  its  mad  career. 
Wake  not  the  lion  in  his  den ! 
Destructive  is  the  tiger's  jaw, 
But  far  more  terrible  are  men 
Whom  passions   in  their  vortex   draw. 
Woe  be  to  him  who,  to  the  blind, 
The  heav'nly  torch  of  light  conveys ! 
It  throws  no  radiance  on  his  mind, 
But  land  and  town  in  ashes  lays. 

"God  hath   filled  me  with   delight ! 
Like  a  golden  star,  behold, 
Like  a  kernel  smooth  and  bright. 
Peels  the  metal  from  the  mould ! 
How  the  whole  doth  gleam 
Like  the   sunny  beam ! 
And   in  the  escutcheon's  shield 
Is  a  master  hand  revealed. 

"Come  in  and  see ! 
Stand,  comrades,  round,  and  lend  your  aid 
To  christen  now  the  bell  we've  made ! 
Concordia  her  name  shall  be. 
In  bonds  of  peace  and  concord  may  her  peal 
Unite  the  loving  congregation's  zeal. 

"And  this   be  henceforth   her  vocation, 
The  end  and  aim  of  her  creation ; 
Above  this  nether  world  shall  she 
In  Heaven's  azure  vault  appear. 
The  neighbor  of  the  thunder  be, 
And  border  on  the  starry  sphere; 
A  voice  of  Heaven  from  above 
Like  yonder  host  of  stars  so  clear. 
Who  laud  their  maker  as  they  move, 
And  usher  in  the  circling  year. 
Tun'd  be  her  metal  mouth  alone 
To  things   eternal   and   sublime. 
And  as  the  swift-wing'd  hours  speed  on, 
May  she  record  the  flight  of  time ! 
Her  tongue  to  Fate  she  well  may  lend ; 
Heartless  herself  and  feeling  nought, 
May  with  her  warning  notes  attend 
On  human  life,  with  change  so  fraught. 
And,  as  the  strains  die  on  the  ear 


SCHILLER  S  POETRY.  03 

That  she  peals  forth  with  tuneful  might. 
So  let  her  teach  that  nought  lasts  here, 
That  all  things  earthly  take  their  flight! 

"Now  then,  with  the  rope  so  strong, 
From  the  vault  the  bell  upweigh, 
That  she  gain  the  realm  of  song, 
And  the  heav'nly  light  of  day ! 

Pull  boys,  pull  boys,  raise ! 

See,  she  moves,  she  sways ! 
O'er  our  town  let  gladness  reign, 
Peace,  be  this  her  first  refrain!" 

(Translation  after  Baskerville.) 


Das  Lied  von  der  Glockc. 

Fest  gemauert  in  der  Erden 
Steht  die  Form,  aus  Lehm  gebrannt. 
Heute  muss  die  Glocke  werden  ! 
Frisch,  Gesellen,  seid  zur  Hand ! 
Von  der  Stirne  heiss 
Rinnen  muss  der  Schweiss, . 
Soil  das  Werk  den  Meister  loben ; 
Doch  der  Segen  kommt  von  oben. 

Zum  Werke,  das  wir  ernst  bereiten, 
Geziemt  sich  wohl  ein  ernstes  Wort ; 
Wenn  gute  Reden  sie  begleiten, 
Dann  fliesst  die  Arbeit  munter  fort. 
So  lasst  uns  jetzt  mit  Fleiss  betrachten. 
Was  durch  die  schwache  Kraft  entspringt; 
Den  schlechten  Mann  muss  man  verachten, 
Der  nie  bedacht  was  er  vollbringt. 
Das  ist's  ja  was  den  Menschen  zieret, 
Und  dazu  ward  ihm  der  Verstand, 
Dass  er  im  innern  Herzen  spiiret, 
Was  er  erschafft  mil  seiner  Hand. 

Neh met  Holz  vom  Fichtenstamme, 
Doch  recht  trocken  lasst  es  sein, 
Dass  die  eingepresste  Flamme 
Schlage  zu  dem  Schwalch  hinein! 
Kocht  des  Kupfers  Brei, 
Schnell  das  Zinn  herbei  ' 
1  )ass  die  zahe  Glockenspi  1  1 
I'  liesse  nach  der  rechten  Wei  1  ' 
Was  in  des  I  )ammes  tiefer  <  rrube 

I  !ie  I  land  mit  Feuers  1 1  ill"*'  bant. 

I  [0  -'i  auf  ilcs  Turmes  <  llocken  tube, 


94  FRIEDRICH   SCHILLER, 

Da  wird  es  von  uns  zeugen  laut. 
Noch  dauern  wird's  in  spaten  Tagen 
Und  rtihren  vieler  Menschen  Ohr 
Und  wird  mit  dem  Betriibten  klagen 
Und  stimmen  zu  der  Andacht  Chor. 
Was  unten  tief  dem  Erdensohne 
Das  wechselnde  Verhangnis  bringt, 
Das  schlagt  an  die  metallne  Krone, 
Die  es  erbaulich  weiter  klingt. 

Weisse  Blasen  seh'  ich  springen; 
Wohl!  die  Massen  sind  im  Fluss. 
Lasst's  mit  Aschensalz  durclidringen, 
Das  befdrdert  scbnell  den  Guss. 
Auch  vom  Schaume  rein 
Muss  die  Mi  seining  sein, 
Dass  vom  reinlicben  Metalle 
Rein  und  voll  die  Stimme  schalle. 

Denn  mit  der  Freude  Feierklange 
Begriisst  sie  das  geliebte  Kind 
Auf  seines  Lebens  erstem  Gange, 
Den  es  in  Scblafes  Arm  beginnt ; 
Ibm  ruben  noch  im  Zeitenschosse 
Die  sebwarzen  und  die  beitern  Lose ; 
Der  Mutterliebe  zarte  Sorgen 
Bewachen  seinen  goldnen  Morgen. 
Die  Jahre  rliehen  pfeilgeschwind. 
Vom  Madchen  reisst  sich  stolz  der  Knabe, 
Er  stiirmt  ins  Leben  wild  binaus, 
Durchmisst  die  Welt  am  Wanderstabe, 
Fremd  kehrt  er  heim  ins  Vaterhaus. 
Und  herrlich,  in  der  Jugend  Prangen, 
Wie  ein  Gebild  aus  Himmelshdhn, 
Mit  ziichtigen,  verschamten  Wangen 
Sieht  er  die  Jungfrau  vor  sich  stehn. 
Da  fasst  ein  namenloses  Sehnen 
Des  Jiinglings  Herz,  er  irrt  allein, 
Aus  seinen  Augen  brechen  Thranen, 
Er  flieht  der  Briider  wilden  Reihn. 
Errdtend  folgt  er  ihren  Spuren 
Und  ist  von  ibrem  Gruss  begliickt, 
Das  Schonste  sucbt  er  auf  den  Fluren, 
Womit  er  seine  Liebe  schmiickt. 
O  zarte  Sehnsucht,  susses  Hoffen  ! 
Der  erstcn  Liebe  goldne  Zeit ! 
Das  Auge  sieht  den  Himmel  oft'en, 
Es  schwelgt  das  Herz  in  Seligkeit ; 
O,  dass  sie  ewig  griinen  bliebe, 
Die  schone  Zeit  der  jungen  Liebe! 


SCHILLER  S  POETRY. 

Wie  sich  die  Pfeifen  braunen  ! 
Dieses  Stabehen  tauch'  icli  ein. 
Sehn  wir's  iiberglast  erscheinen, 
Wird's  zum  Gusse  zeitig  sein. 

Jetzt,  Gesellen,  frisch  ! 

Fruft  mir  das  Gemisch, 
Ob  das  Sprode  mit  dem  Weicben 
Sich  vereint  zum  guten  Zeichen. 

Denn  wo  das  Strenge  mit  dem  Zarten, 
Wo  Starkes  sich  und  Mildes  paarten, 
Da  gibt  es  einen  guten  Klatig. 
Drum  prufe,  wer  sich  ewig  bindet, 
Ob  sich  das  Herz  zum  Herzen  findet ! 
Der  Wahn  ist  kurz,  die  Reu'  ist  lang. 
Lieblich  in  der  Braute  Locken 
Spielt  der  jungfrauliche  Kranz, 
Wenn  die  hellen  Kirchenglocken 
Laden  zu  des  Festes  Glanz. 
Ach  !  des  Lebens  schonste  Feier 
Endigt  auch  den  Lebensmai, 
Mit  dem  Gurtel,  mit  dem  Schleier 
Reisst  der  scheme  Wahn  entzwei. 
Die  Leidenschaft  flieht. 
Die  Liebe  muss  bleiben ; 
Die  Blume  verbliilit. 
Die  Frucht  muss  treiben. 
Der  Mann  muss  liinaus 
Ins  feindliche  Leben, 
Muss  wirken  und  streben 
Und  pflanzen  und  schaffen, 
Erlisten,  erraffen. 
Muss  wetten  und  wagen, 
Das  Gliick  zu  erjagen. 
Da  stromet  herbei  die  unendliche  Gabe, 
Es  fiillt  sich  der  Speicber  mit  kostlicher  Habe, 
Die  Ratline  wachsen,  es  debut  sich  das  Hans. 
Und  drinnen  waltet 
Die  ziichtige  Hausfrau, 
Die  Mutter  der  Kinder, 
Und  herrschet  \\  eise 
Im  hauslichen  Kreise, 
Und  lehret  die  Madchen 
Und  wehret  den  Knaben, 
Und  reget  ohn'  I 
Die  fleissigen  I  [ande, 
Und  melirt  den  Gewinn 
Mil  ordnendem  Sinn, 

Und  fullrt  mil  Schatzen  die  duftenden  Laden 
Und  dreht  um  die  schnurrende  Spindel  den  Faden, 


95 


g6  FRIEDRICH   SCHILLER. 


Und  sammelt  im  reinlich  geglatteten  Schrein 
Die  schimmernde  Wolle,  den  schneeigten  Lein, 
Und  fiiget  zum  Guten  den  Glanz  und  Schimmer, 
Und  ruhet  nimmer. 

Und  der  Vater  mit  frohem  Blick 
Von  des  Hauses  weitschauendem  Giebel 
Ueberzahlet  sein  bliihend  Gliick, 
Siehet  der  Pfosten  ragende  Baume 
Und  der  Scheuncn  gefiillte  Raume 
Und  die  Speicher,  vom  Segen  gebogen, 
Und  des  Kornes  bewegte  Wogen, 
Riihmt  sich  mit  stolzem  Mund : 
Fest  wie  der  Erde  Grund, 
Gegen  des  Ungliicks  Macht 
Steht  mir  des  Hauses  Pracht! 
Dock  mit  des  Geschickes  Machten 
1st  kein  ew'ger  Bund  zu  flechten, 
Und  das  Ungliick  scbreitet  schnell. 

Wobl !  nun  kann  der  Guss  beginnen  ; 
Schdn  gezacket  ist  der  Bruch. 
Doch,  bevor  wir's  lassen  rinnen, 
Betet  einen  frommen  Spruch  ! 

Stosst  den  Zapfen  aus  ! 

Gott  bewahr'  das  Haus! 
Rauchend  in  des  Henkels  Bogen 
Scliiesst's  mit  feuerbraunen  Wogen. 

Wohlthatig  ist  des  Feuers  Macht, 
Wenn  sie  der  Mensch  bezahmt,  bewacht, 
Und  was  er  bildet,  was  er  schafft, 
Das  dankt  er  dieser  Himmelskraft ; 
Doch  furchtbar  wird  die  Himmelskraft, 
Wenn  sie  der  Fessel  sich  entrafft, 
Einhertritt  auf  der  eignen  Spur, 
Die  freie  Tochter  der  Natur. 
Wehe,  wenn  sie  losgelassen, 
Wachsend  ohne  Widerstand, 
Durch  die  volkbelebten  Gassen 
Walzt  den  ungeheuren  Brand ! 
Denn  die  Elemente  hassen 
Das  Gebild  der  Menschenhand. 
Aus  der  Wolke 
Quillt  der  Segen, 
Stromt  der  Regen ; 
Aus  der  Wolke,  ohne  Wahl, 
Zuckt  der  Strahl. 

Hort  ihr's  wimmern  hoch  vom  Turm! 
Das  ist  Sturm ! 


Schiller's  poetry.  97 

Rot  wie  Blut 

1st  der  Himmel ; 

Das  ist  nicht  des  Tages  Glut! 

Welch  Getiimmel 

Strassen  auf ! 

Dampf  walk  auf ! 

Flackernd  steigt  die  Feuersaule, 

Durch  der  Strasse  lange  Zeile 

Wachst  es  fort  mit  Windeseile; 

Kochend,  wie  aus  Ofens  Rachen. 

Gliihn  die  Liifte,  Balken  krachen, 

Pfosten  stiirzen,  Fenster  klirren. 

Kinder  jammern,  Mutter  irren, 

Tiere  wimmern 

Unter  Trummern ; 

Alles  rennet,  rettet,  fliichtet, 

Taghell  ist  die  Nacht  gelichtet. 

Durch  der  Hande  lange  Kette 

Um  die  Wette 

Fliegt  der  Eimer ;  hoch  im  Bogen 

Spritzen  Quellen,  Wasserwogen. 

Heulend  kommt  der  Sturm  geflogen, 

Der  die  Flamme  brausend  sucht. 

Prasselnd  in  die  diirre  Frucht 

Fallt  sie,  in  des  Speichers  Raume, 

In  der  Sparren  diirre  Baume, 

Und  als  wollte  sie  im  Wehen 

Mit  sich  fort  der  Erde  Wucht 

Reissen  in  gewalt'ger  Flucht, 

Wachst  sie  in  des  Himmels  Hohen 

Riesengross  ! 

Hoffnungslos 

Weicht  der  Mensch  der  Gotterstarke, 

Miissig  sieht  er  seine  Werke 

Und  bewundernd  untergeheri. 

Leergebrannt 
Ist  die  Statte, 

Wilder  Stiirme  rauhes  Bette. 
In  den  oden  Fensterhohlen 
Wohnt  das  Grauen, 
Und  des  Himmels  Wolken  schauen 
Hoch  hinein. 

Einen  Blick 
Nach  dem  '  rrabe 
Seiner  1  [abe 

Sendet  nocli  der  Menscb  zuriick — 
Greift  frohlich  dann  zum  Wanderstabe. 
Was  Feuers  W'ui  ihm  auch  geraubt, 


98  FRIEDRICH  SCHILLER. 

Ein  siisser  Trost  ist  ihm  geblieben  : 
Er  zahlt  die  Haupter  seiner  Lieben, 
Und  sieh  !  ihm  fehlt  kein  teures  Haupt. 

In  die  Erd'  ist's  aufgenommen. 
Gliicklich  ist  die  Form  gefullt ; 
Wird's  auch  schon  zu  Tage  kommen, 
Dass  es  Fleiss  und  Kunst  vergilt? 

Wenn  der  Guss  misslang? 

Wenn  die  Form  zersprang? 
Ach,  vielleicht,  indem  wir  hoffen, 
Hat  uns  Unheil  schon  getroffen. 

Dem  dunklen  Schoss  der  heil'gen  Erde 
Vertrauen  wir  der  Hande  That, 
Vertraut  der  Samann  seine  Saat 
Und  hofft,  dass  sie  entkeimen  werde 
Zum  Segen  nach  des  Himmels  Rat. 
Noch  kostlicheren  Samen  bergen 
Wir  trauernd  in  der  Erde  Schoss 
Und  hoffen  dass  er  aus  den  Sargen 
Erbluhen  soil  zu  schonrem  Los. 

Von  dem  Dome, 
Schwer  und  bang, 
Tont  die  Glocke, 
Grabgesang. 

Ernst  begleiten  ihre  Trauerschlage 
Einen  Wandrer  auf  dem  letzten  Wege. 

Ach,  die  Gattin  ist's,  die  teure, 
Ach  !  es  ist  die  treuc  Mutter, 
Die  der  schwarze  Fiirst  der  Schatten, 
Wegfiihrt  aus  dem  Arm  des  Gatten, 
Aus  der  zarten  Kinder  Schar, 
Die  sie  bliihend  ihm  gebar, 
Die  sie  an  der  treuen  Brust 
Wachsen  sah  mit  Mutterlust — 
Ach,  des  Hauses  zarte  Bande 
Sind  gelost  auf  immerdar ; 
Denn  sie  wohnt  im  Schattenlande, 
Die  des  Hauses  Mutter  war ! 
Denn  es  fehlt  ihr  treues  Walten, 
Ihre  Sorge  wacht  nicht  mehr; 
An  verwaister  Statte  schalten 
Wird  die  Fremde,  liebeleer. 

Bis  die  Glocke  sich  verkuhlet, 
Lasst  die  strenge  Arbeit  ruhn. 
Wie  im  Laub  der  Vogel  spielet, 


SCHILLER  S  POETRY.  QO, 

Mag  sich  jeder  gotlich  thun. 

Winkt  der  Sterne  Licht, 

Ledig  aller  Pflicht, 
Hort  der  Bursch  die  Vesper  schlagen ; 
Meister  muss  sich  immer  plagen. 

Munter  fordert  seine  Schritte 
Fern  im  wilden  Forst  der  Wandrer 
Nach  der  lieben  Heimathiitte. 
Blockend  ziehen  heim  die  Schafe, 
Und  der  Rinder 
Breitgestirnte,  glatte  Scharen 
Kommen  briillend, 
Die  gewohnten  Stalle  fullend. 
Schwer  herein 
Schwankt  der  Wagen, 
Kornbeladen ; 
Bunt  von  Farben, 
Auf  den  Garben 
Liegt  der  Kranz, 

Und  das  junge  Volk  der  Schnitter 
Fliegt  zum  Tanz. 
Markt  und  Strasse  werden  stiller ; 
Um  des  Lichts  gesell'ge  Flamme 
Sammeln  sich  die  Hausbewohner, 
Und  das  Stadtthor  schliesst  sich  knarrend. 
Schwarz  bedecket 
Sich  die  Erde ! 

Doch  den  sichern  Burger  schrecket 
Nicht  die  Nacht, 
Die  den  Bosen  griisslich  wecket ; 
Denn  das  Auge  des  Gesetzes  wacht. 

Heil'ge  Ordnung,  segenreiche 
Himmelstochter,  die  das  Gleicbe 
Frei  und  leicht  und  freudig  bindet, 
Die  der  Stiidte  Bund  gegrundet, 
Die  herein  von  den  Gefilden 
Rief  den  ungesell'gen  Wilden, 
Eintrat  in  der  Menschen   Hiitten, 
Und  das  teuerste  der  Bande 
Wob,  den  Trieb  zum  Vaterlande! 

Tausend  fleiss'ge  Hande  regen, 
I  [elfen  sich  in  munterm  Bund, 
Und  in  fcurigem  Bewegen 
Werden  alle  Krafte  kiind. 
Meister  ruhrt  sich  und  ( ie  ell< 
In  der  Freiheil  heil'gem  Schutz ; 
Jeder  freut  sich  seiner  Stelle, 


lOO  FRIEDRICH   SCHILLER. 

Bietet  dem  Verachter  Trutz. 
Arbeit  ist  des  Burger's  Zierde, 
Segen  ist  der  Miihe  Preis ; 
Ehrt  den  Konig  seine  Wiirde, 
Ehret  uns  der  Hande  Fleiss. 

Holder  Friede, 
Siisse  Eintracht, 
Weilet,  weilet 

Freundlich  iiber  dieser  Stadt ! 
Moge  nie  der  Tag  erscheinen, 
Wo  des  rauhen  Krieges  Horden 
Dieses  stille  Thai  durchtoben, 
Wo  der  Himmel, 
Den  des  Abends  sanfte  R6te 
Lieblich  malt, 

Von  der  Dorfer,  von  der  Stadte 
Wildem  Brande  schrecklich  strahlt ! 

Nun  zerbrecht  mir  das  Gebaude, 
Seine  Absicht  bat's  erfiillt, 
Dass  sicb  Herz  und  Auge  weide 
An  dem  wohlgelungnen  Bild. 

Scbwingt  den  Hammer,  schwingt, 

Bis  der  Mantel  springt ! 
Wenn  die  Glock'  soil  auferstehen, 
Muss  die  Form  in  Stiicken  gehen. 

Der  Meister  kann  die  Form  zerbrecben 
Mit  weiser  Hand,  zur  recbten  Zeit ; 
Doch  webe,  wenn  in  Flammenbachen 
Das  gliihnde  Erz  sich  selbst  befreit ! 
Blindwiitend,  mit  des  Donners  Krachen, 
Zersprengt  es  das  geborstne  Hans, 
Und  wie  aus  offnem  Hollenrachen 
Speit  es  Verderben  ziindend  aus. 
Wo  rohe  Krafte  sinnlos  walten, 
Da  kann  sicb  kein  Gebild  gestalten  ; 
Wenn  sich  die  Volker  selbst  befrein, 
Da  kann  die  Wohlfahrt  nicht  gedeihn. 

Well,  wenn  sicb  in  dem  Schoss  der  Stadte 
Der  Feuerzunder  still  gehauft, 
Das  Volk,  zerreissend  seine  Kette, 
Zur  Eigenhilfe  schrecklich  greift! 
Da  zerret  an  der  Glocke  Strangen 
Der  Aufruhr,  dass  sie  heulend  schallt 
TTnd,  nur  geweiht  zu  Friedensklangen, 
Die  Losung  anstimmt  zur  Gewalt. 


SCHILLER  S  POETRY.  IOI 

Freiheit  und  Gleichheit !  hort  man  schallen ; 
Der  ruh'ge  Burger  greift  zur  Wehr, 
Die  Strassen  fullen  sich,  die  Hallen, 
Und  Wiirgerbanden  ziehn  umher. 
Da  werden  Weiber  zu  Hyanen 
Und  treiben  mit  Entsetzen  Scherz ; 
Noch  zuckend,  mit  des  Panthers  Zahnen, 
Zerreissen  sie  des  Feindes  Herz. 
Nichts  Heiliges  ist  mehr.  es  losen 
Sich  alle  Bande  frommer  Scheu  ; 
Der  Gute  raumt  den  Platz  dem  Bosen, 
Und  alle  Laster  walten  frei. 
Gefahrlich  ist's  den  Leu  zu  wecken, 
Verderblich  ist  des  Tigers  Zahn  ; 
Jedoch  der  schrecklichste  der  Schrecken, 
Das  ist  der  Mensch  in  seinem  Wahn. 
Well  denen,  die  dem  Ewigbhnden 
Des  Lichtes  Himmelsfackel  leihn! 
Sie  strahlt  ibm  nicht,  sie  kann  nur  ziinden 
Und  aschert  Stadt'  und  Lander  ein. 

Freude  hat  mir  Gott  gegeben : 
Sehet !  wie  ein  goldner  Stern. 
Aus  der  Hiilse  blank  und  eben, 
Schalt  sich  der  metallne  Kern. 

Von  dem  Helm  zum  Kranz 

Spielt's  wie   Sonnenglanz, 
Auch  des  Wappens  nette  Schilder 
Loben  den  erfahrnen  Bilder. 

Herein !  herein  ! 
Gesellen  alle,  schliesst  den  Reihen, 
Dass  wir  die  Glocke  taufend  weihen ! 
Konkordia  soil  ihr  Name  sein. 
Zur  Eintracht,  zu  herzinnigem  Vereine 
■  Versammle  sie  die  liebende  Gemeine. 

Und  dies  sei  fortan  ihr  Beruf, 
Wozu  der  Meister  sie  erschuf: 
Hoch  iiberrn  niedern  Erdenleben 
Soil  sie  im  blauen  Himmelszelt, 
Die  Nachbarin  des  Dormers,  schweben 
Und  grenzen  an  die  Sternenwelt, 
Soil  eine  Stimme  sein  von  oben, 
Wie  der  Gestirne  belle  Schar, 
Die  ihren  Schopfer  wandelnd  loben 
Und  fiihren  'las  bekranzte  Jahr. 
Nur  ewigen  und  ernsten  Dingen 
Sei  ihr  metallner  Mund  geweiht, 
Und  stiindlich  mil  den  schnellen  Schwingen 


102 


FRIEDRICH  SCHILLER. 


Beruhr'  im  Fluge  sie  die  Zeit. 
Dem  Schicksal  leihe  sie  die  Zunge; 
Selbst  herzlos,  ohne  Mitgefiihl, 
Begleite  sie  mit  ihrem  Schwunge 
Des  Lebens  wechselvolles  Spiel. 
Und  wie  der  Klang  im  Ohr  vergehet, 
Der  machtig  tonend  ihr  entschallt, 
So  lehre  sie,  dass  nichts  bestehet, 
Dass  alles  Irdische  verhallt. 

Jetzo  mit  der  Kraft  des  Stranges 
Wiegt  die  Glock'  mir  aus  der  Gruft, 
Dass  sie  in  das  Reich  des  Klanges 
Steige,  in  die  Himmelsluft! 

Ziehet,  ziehet,  hebt ! 

Sie  bewegt  sich,  schwebt ! 
Freude  dieser  Stadt  bedeute, 
Friede  sei  ihr  erst  Gelaute.] 


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